Celandine paused, pricking her ears as she heard the sound of clanging metal coming from somewhere she couldn’t place. 

“What’s that?” She asked Crispin. It was a sort of familiar sound - one that she’d heard before, but couldn’t quite name. 

“Someone is forging something,” Crispin explained. “Denizens of the Furnace are well-known for such things.”

“Oh.” Celandine said, looking curiously in the direction the sounds were coming from. “What do you think they’re forging?”

Crispin shrugged. 

“Tools or weapons of some kind, typically. Do you have experience with using weapons?” 

Celandine thought a moment, then shook her head.

“I’ve never had the opportunity to learn. My parents never carried weapons on their adventures, anyways.” She said. “I don’t really think I need one, but if I ever happen to come across one maybe I’ll make an effort to learn to use it properly.”

Crispin nodded. 

“Weapons can be quite useful sometimes, but just as often they trick you into resorting to violence when you wouldn’t have otherwise. When you have a hammer, everything begins to look like a nail, you know.”

Celandine tilted her head to one side, considering this statement.

“That’s a good saying,” She said. “I’ll have to remember that one.”