"Hadley, come out of that daydream and actually do somethin' of use, willya?" The man in charge of her apprenticeship, Ackerley, came up behind her. "No, no, it's fine. I do all da work and you get part of the credit. It's fine." He said on second thought. Hadley had gotten used to this tone, and the man's strange way of speaking. It wasn't the most graceful, but it got his point across and it was, well, him. His odd accent suited him in a way. The girl was actually working, stripping limbs just as he'd told her to. Ackerley was getting up there in years and the man's greying hair was enough of an indication of his age, let alone his memory. "You're the one who said 'Yer name is Fletcher, you can make de arrows." The poor imitation of his voice got her one extremely impressive dirty look. "Stop mockin' me girl. Ya know better dan dat." He was right, she did know better than to mock him. It was just so much more fun to disobey that little rule. "Yes, sir." Hadley said with a sigh, and held up one of the shafts for his inspection. "Balanced enough?" She asked, brow raising. There was a bell to the front of the open smithy, distracting them both from her work. The bell was there for customers, meaning that it was time for both of them to get up and tend to it.