Greg starts to scratch his own head because he's running out of ideas on how to make something that can at least be controlled for its chaos. "Goddammit... why did I feel stuck all of a sudden?"
"What happened, Sensei?"
Greg said, "I'm not sure what I should do. Usually I have at least a rough idea, but this time my hands seem to have their own plan."
"That doesn't make me feel better!"
"When have I ever been a comfort?"
"Good point."
"Well, I guess I let the hands do their work."
Greg worked quietly for a while, shaping the leather and fitting the bronze reinforcements with practiced skill. The boots were coming together well.
They were strong but flexible, and the small heel made them comfortable to walk in. Regular boots that are perfectly normal and won't cause any problems at all. And then his hands began to do the magic work, and Greg felt that familiar sinking feeling in his stomach.
"Oh no," he said quietly.
