[It's some of both. Lashan takes the sad remnant of a sword in her large, scarred hands and weighs it, turning it over, though she mainly keeps her level gaze on the boy it belongs to.
There's enough solid weight in the hilt to suggest the tang of the blade is still there under the grip. The knowledge of what she could do with this, if anything, exists but it's out of reach, with all that actual experience of making and mending swords. Regardless she has the sense that it's been a staggeringly long time since she actually worked in a smithy.]
I see. [Sort of. Lashan is the sort who likes to piece things together in the background for herself more than have them explained to her. She can ask clarifying questions later.] A serious loss. Your body itself has forgotten, I assume. As if you'd had a stroke.
no subject
There's enough solid weight in the hilt to suggest the tang of the blade is still there under the grip. The knowledge of what she could do with this, if anything, exists but it's out of reach, with all that actual experience of making and mending swords. Regardless she has the sense that it's been a staggeringly long time since she actually worked in a smithy.]
I see. [Sort of. Lashan is the sort who likes to piece things together in the background for herself more than have them explained to her. She can ask clarifying questions later.] A serious loss. Your body itself has forgotten, I assume. As if you'd had a stroke.
Can you learn it again?