Master Vespert's hands were clenched so tightly on his tools that they shook, tapping against the heavy canvas of his apron and displaying even more agitation than his bristling tail conveyed.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice cried out to shove the tools into the High Lady's claws and let her do the carving if her demands were so specific. Let her do it herself and learn firsthand how wrong she was about how things 'must' be done. The rational part of his mind, the part that wanted to live to see the sunrise in the morning, kept his mouth firmly shut, but it was a battle with himself that he was rapidly losing.
"Master Vespert," Erna said as she ran the tip of her tail over the block of rough-hewn stone, pressuring the sculpture even further. "Do you know what this is?"
