Hewkii & Ferril
Hewkii Hewkii
Ferril Ferril
Ferril Ferril
Hewkii, ever noticed how the steel remembers the weight of every swing? I can feel its pulse, but you wouldn't understand the tempering ritual.
Hewkii Hewkii
Yeah, I feel that same sting in my gut when I swing. The metal's memory is like a stubborn friend—always remembering every beat. Trust me, I've seen a tempering ritual or two, and it’s a wild dance of heat and chill. Keep your hand steady, and we'll honor that pulse together.
Ferril Ferril
Fine, but if you let that metal quiver, I’ll have to start from scratch. I don’t do second‑rate heat‑treatments. Keep the torch steady, or you’ll find me at the forge, yelling at the blade like it’s a stubborn child.
Hewkii Hewkii
Got it, boss. I’ll keep the flame steady, no quivering. If you get mad at the blade, I’ll stand by—just make sure you don’t swing the torch like a drunken knight. We'll finish it together, no second‑rate heat, only pure fire.
Ferril Ferril
Fine, but you’ll need more than bravado to keep that flame steady. If the steel’s not singing, I’ll take it back and hammer it until it obeys. No excuses, no half‑measures.