"Gold-work, hm?" The shadows have faded from Susan's gray eyes, but her smile's not as bright as he'd prefer, and thus Cuthbert falls back on a ka-mai's bag of tricks and teasing. With near-uncanny speed, he snatches a straw plait from her workbasket and coils it around his fingers to examine it with overly-attentive focus. "Looks like ye could teach him a thing or two yerself, mayhap."

"Oh, stop it," Susan scolds, and leans forward to try to reclaim her braidwork. He holds it out of her reach, laughter in his eyes. "Give it back, 'Bert, I've not sewn the ends yet."