[ She withdraws her hand only to turn the palm up to receive the gift. Lifting the piece before her, she allows the the cloth to unravel naturally to spill from her fingers, seeking the prize beneath. With curiosity, she turns the piece over in her hands. It seems small in her palm, but she treats it with respect. She is careful to touch each side of it, observing the material the way only she can, touching the delicate engraving and the metal edges of the plates. ]
You made this.
[ Armada observes, lifting it to the middle distance before her. The tinkling of the plates sounds like a wind chime that is swallowed up by the walls of the rover. ]
no subject
You made this.
[ Armada observes, lifting it to the middle distance before her. The tinkling of the plates sounds like a wind chime that is swallowed up by the walls of the rover. ]