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Summary
At the makeshift forge on the sidelines of the encampment, Vi had been working on arrowheads for hours; an exhausting, repetitive, and delicate work. With sweat gathering at her brow, and the muscles of her arms setting into a deep ache from the exertion, she solely focused on the movements of her hammer.
“Greetings,” Caitlyn had stilled in front of her. “I have a request for shields and knee armor.”