Molot & Oriole
Molot Molot
Oriole Oriole
Oriole Oriole
Hey Molot, I was listening to a hawk that chirps like a small hammer—ever thought about forging a little piece that could capture that rhythm? Maybe a metal birdhouse that sings back, or a blade that mimics a falcon’s talon. I’ve got a secret ledger of bird calls that could give us a new design angle.
Molot Molot
Sounds like a wild idea, but not impossible. I could make a little metal birdhouse that rattles with the right spring and bell combination, so every time that hawk hits its beat the house replies in metal. Or a blade with a curved edge that feels like a falcon’s talon—tough, precise, and with a little flourish at the hilt. If you’ve got the ledger of calls, I’ll use the rhythm to tweak the resonance. Let’s hammer out the details over a good drink.
Oriole Oriole
That’s the spirit, Molot—let’s crack the rhythm together. I’ve got a handful of hawk‑call recordings that match the beat you mentioned; if we tune the spring and bell to those frequencies, the birdhouse will echo like a tiny chorus. For the blade, we can carve a falcon‑talon curve into the edge, and then add a subtle weight shift so it feels like the bird’s grip when you swing. How about we grab a pint at the corner pub tomorrow and I’ll pull up the ledger? I'll bring the clips, you bring the hammer, and we’ll make something that sings back at the sky.
Molot Molot
Sounds solid. I'll bring the forge and the hammer, you bring the sounds, and we’ll carve out a piece that sings with the wind. Tomorrow at the pub, then back to the forge—let’s make the sky echo back.