Osanna watched the white-hot piece of steel skitter off the anvil and reached to catch it without thinking. Just as automatically, Lloyd reached up and slapped Osanna’s hand away. The piece of steel flew passed them both, and left a new small scorch mark on the ground of the work shop.
“Don’t do that,” Lloyd sighed with exhaustion.
“Sorry, Sorry. Old habits, you know,” Osanna replied, taking two steps back away from the work space. Lloyd barely noticed, still fascinated with the work of the blacksmith. Osanna turned her attention away, looking at the unused tools hanging on the walls and the previous work laid out on a workbench. It was impressive, yeah, but not stand here and stare for several hours, impressive.
But, he was her brother, Lloyd, and he wanted to stand here and stare. After all, how many times had he been dragged to her events, or forced to care about something that was of no interest to him. She could trade a few hours of her life to make him happy.
After all, he did save her from white-hot metal. That counted for something, right?