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where there's smoke... [ video ♐ 001]
[ The video feed flashes on with a start, upside-down, to reveal a young redheaded woman—barely past her teens and dressed in animal skin and fur-lined clothing, no less—examining the network device closely and pushing random buttons and turning it this way and that, pink tongue catching between white and slightly crooked teeth in earnest concentration. Eventually she huffs in exasperation. ]
...Shit. Jon Snow told me he'd teach me how t' work this thing, but it's...augh!
[ She tosses it down on the floor irritably, and it just so happens to land right-side-up, and continues to record as she moves to the center of the room, where she's piled some pieces of wood and paper scraps. She sits cross-legged on the floor before the small pile and begins to rub two small pieces of wood together furiously, one piece shaped like a bow and another like a small plank, her shoulders hunched and red head bowed in concentration.
Finally, there is a tiny puff of smoke—and she yelps victoriously. She tips the small wooden plank and blows air onto it, fanning it. The small puff of smoke blossoms into a tiny flame...which gets bigger as she adds it to the makeshift pile of kindling on the floor, glowing brighter and hotter with each second.
And then suddenly it's getting larger, and smoke begins to fill the small room. Ventilation? Might be a problem. She puts her hands on the hips of her sheepskin breeches and cocks her head, coughing just a bit. ]
...Well, at least it's a cookfire, alright. That's something.
[[ooc: yes, Ygritte has started a small - for now - fire, in her room. Come stop her before she burns it down? ]]
...Shit. Jon Snow told me he'd teach me how t' work this thing, but it's...augh!
[ She tosses it down on the floor irritably, and it just so happens to land right-side-up, and continues to record as she moves to the center of the room, where she's piled some pieces of wood and paper scraps. She sits cross-legged on the floor before the small pile and begins to rub two small pieces of wood together furiously, one piece shaped like a bow and another like a small plank, her shoulders hunched and red head bowed in concentration.
Finally, there is a tiny puff of smoke—and she yelps victoriously. She tips the small wooden plank and blows air onto it, fanning it. The small puff of smoke blossoms into a tiny flame...which gets bigger as she adds it to the makeshift pile of kindling on the floor, glowing brighter and hotter with each second.
And then suddenly it's getting larger, and smoke begins to fill the small room. Ventilation? Might be a problem. She puts her hands on the hips of her sheepskin breeches and cocks her head, coughing just a bit. ]
...Well, at least it's a cookfire, alright. That's something.
[[ooc: yes, Ygritte has started a small - for now - fire, in her room. Come stop her before she burns it down? ]]
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