[ When the woman settles and begins to inspect her work, Sabine lifts her attention from what she's whittling -- square, if soft edged beads as small as a thumbnail, with a bevelled edging as if to replicate cut jewels -- to watch, frankly observant in a way her aunt would have elbowed her about, if she were next to her.

It's one thing to be an artisan and another to turn it into money. Sabine has her limitations. And the question that arises is not an unfamiliar one. ]

I may not grow the wood personally, but oui, these are mine. Some new, some old. This-- [ And she points with her knife, lacking in the ways of workplace health and safety, but Araceli's fingers aren't too terribly endangered. She is pointed out a bracelet of differently sized stars crafted of a silvery wood, connecting with a string of leather, amongst others with the same construction. ] --perhaps, if you are not sure about fitting.