[Dr. Sung takes a moment to finish what she's going. Despite it, her fingers work quick and she's at the tail end, anyways, weaving bright thread (gold, mostly, shock of red and bright blues, a hint of green, if you know where to look) into the ends of their intricate knots.
Cuts the tied threads. Holds out the finished bracelet for Connor.]
A gift for all your hard work.
[Also: she has a hundred of them. Good lord, son, please take it.]
no subject
Only one way to be good at anything.
[Dr. Sung takes a moment to finish what she's going. Despite it, her fingers work quick and she's at the tail end, anyways, weaving bright thread (gold, mostly, shock of red and bright blues, a hint of green, if you know where to look) into the ends of their intricate knots.
Cuts the tied threads. Holds out the finished bracelet for Connor.]
A gift for all your hard work.
[Also: she has a hundred of them. Good lord, son, please take it.]