Step One: Harvest the clay. Step Two: Make the clay into balls. Step Three: Try not to piss off the balls surrounding you because if you have to live through one more argument so help you gods...

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After convincing Benedict to go back out with her (two males were better than one) she showed them how to 'harvest' the clay. They'd have to take turns, but hopefully there would be minimal water waste. Lawrence brought a large skin full of water and, after dropping it off, quickly disappeared back to the castle, complaining about a headache from the sun.

"So fill this pot up to this line with dirt." She marked it with a dusty fingerprint. Tony dumped it in before Benedict could move, his eyes rapidly blinking in displeasure. "Now fill it the rest of the way with water. Not so fast, Tony!"

Tony sloshed most of the water into the bucket, spilling it out the sides in his haste to listen, or maybe do it before Benedict. The precious water disappeared into the ground, leaving only a dark mark that quickly shrunk in the heat. "Sorry, Agatha."

"Yeah, let's make water undrinkable. Great idea, Agatha." Benedict paused deliberately before saying her fake name, like he always did.

Neara ignored him. "It's ok, we'll use what we have. Now stick your hands in and break up the clumps of dirt, make it so it's all like finely ground fl...rice." Maybe they'd ground rice for a female before? Well, Tony maybe; Benedict probably hadn't seen another female besides her.

"Like this?" Tony dug both of his hands into the water, the surface instantly clouding. When he pulled his hands out, a thin film of dirt clung to them. As they sat in the sunlight, it dried to a light grey color that flaked away as soon as he moved his fingers. It had to be clay.

"Yeah, that's right. We have to wait a little for the soil to hydrate, otherwise we're just going to get a lot of dust." After a few minutes passed (she counted the Mississippi's in her head) she said, "Move the other bowl over here. Now take the cloth and fold it... put it on top of itself a few times. Yes; Benedict, carefully pour the water through the cloth and Tony, you hold it steady over the other bowl. We don't want to waste anything."

"Anything else." Benedict added. He poured slowly, though, so Neara didn't scold him.

Tony held the cloth like it was the most important thing in the world, the surface quickly stained a dark grey.

"Ok, stop pouring. We don't want the layer of sand and rocks at the bottom. Ok, so Tony, gather the corners like this," She gently placed her fingers on top of his and showed him how to ball the soil in the middle, water squelching through the fabric as he squeezed. With as little pressure as possible, she directed him to wind the fabric tightly around the clay, squeezing clear water into the bowl beneath. "Keep squeezing until it stops dripping." After a few seconds, he was incredibly strong after all, he opened the cloth and let a hard ball of clay roll out.

"Done!" He looked at it with a smile. "Now we can play rugby!"

"Play what?" Benedict looked at the ball and set the other bowl down.

"Rugby! It's not the right size, but I smashed it into a ball, so I bet I can make it into a rugby shape!" He eagerly took the clay and began molding it in his hands, palming it until it resembled a rounded football. He turned to Benedict with a smile on his face. "Want to play?"

"Play what?" Benedict looked more annoyed at being uninformed than irritated at Tony. "What the hell is a rugby?"

"You've never played?"

"Of course I've played a rugby, it's just been a few years, so I don't remember everything. I basically invented the rugbies. I'm just... surprised you knew what they were."

Tony smiled. "Oh, so that's where N... Agatha and Shay learned it!"

"No, we... ugh." Neara rolled her eyes and scraped out the pebbles and sand, piling it to one side. Gathering a handful of dry dirt, some sticking to her moist fingers like a glove, she poured the water from the bowl back inside. Tony almost dropped his clay in his rush to help her. "It's ok, I can do this myself." Her soul quavered a little as she stirred the dirt, ignoring the light-hearted conversation between the two beastmen. Shay would say she was being ridiculous and should just mate with Winston already, and he probably wasn't into Ethel, he just rescued her because that's what Kings do. Then she'd probably roll her eyes at Tony and say, 'Well, if that's what you're into...' while teasing her about all the times Tony lost at rugby.

"No, I'm pretty sure the loser has to eat the ball afterwards."

"The loser just... loses. They're not good. That's what the loser does." Tony sounded unsure of himself, although he'd been a part of the very first game of rugby ever played. How could he believe Benedict? Too trusting. Neara looked into the murky grey bowl and sighed. Too trusting to be trustworthy.

After exhausting their water supply, they had a ball of clay half the size of Neara, wrapped carefully in a hide moistened with the last of the water. Tony carried it resentfully, shooting glances at Neara piggy-backing on Benedict.

"This doesn't mean I like you."

"Then you shouldn't have offered." Neara shot back. She couldn't wait for the irritating snow leopard to leave, even if it meant exposing herself to an attack from Ape King. Hopefully once she started making pots, life in the City of Beasts would get easier and, with the pots and the well, Winston would have the upper hand he needed to turn the City against Ape King.

The castle sounded quiet in the early twilight, most of the beastmen retired to their quarters/females for dinner. With the well, Winston authorized a small watering pool deep in the forest, shaded by large sheets of leather strung across the treetops. Thirsty game brought their herds with them, although Winston strictly monitored the size of the groups to prevent over-hunting.

"Agatha!" Ethel's cheery voice sounded in the hallway and she approached her friend with a smile. "Hi, Benedict!"

"Hello," he grumped.

Neara dug her fingernails into his shoulders just enough to see his ear twitch. "Hi, Ethel. How are you?"

Ethel's bright smile seemed impossibly white, especially considering the poor hygiene of the place. "Oh gosh, it feels like I'm about to turn into a puddle of sweat! I even thought about digging a hole just to get away from the sun."

"What was your solution?"

"I mated an Eagle and he flies me high above the City whenever I get too hot." She smiled and turned around, wide black wings tattooed across her shoulder blades. "Did you know the closer you get to the sun, the colder it gets? Sometimes Eagles can freeze up there!" Her eyes opened wide and she nodded vigorously. "It's true; Hank told me."

"Hank?" An eagle named Hank?

"Yes." Ethel looked curiously at Tony, who shifted the hide across his massive shoulders. Really, it was too much muscle. Body builders had posters of Tony in their rooms or something.

Neara's heart sank. Shay would have laughed... would have snorted and asked if the Eagle was a cowboy.

"Good game hunting?"

"What?"

"Good game hunting?" Ethel raised her voice slightly and nodded towards Tony.

"No, um, that's just something... Tiger King asked us to get. He's experimenting on something. I think." The longer they stood there, the more her sweaty skin sticking to Benedict's bare back pulled at her awareness. Her thighs didn't move in his clenched hands, the fingers digging into the flesh. Now her hands around his neck felt intimate. If she grabbed too hard, he'd wonder why she changed. If she lessened the pressure, would he think she was going easy on him? Or would it just be proof she noticed and cared? She didn't care, but she didn't want him to think she did and think she liked him. She settled for knocking the side of his head lightly. "Well, we should go."

Benedict shook his head and turned to glare at her. "Hey! I'm not one of your dumb males!"

"Oh, you two aren't mated?"

"Ew. No. He's just a guardian."

"She's just someone annoying I have to watch over." Benedict grumbled, their sentences tangled and tripping over each other.

Ethel's face pulled slightly and she studied both of them for a second. "Alright. Well, I hope the Tiger King can use it to cool everyone off." She walked away, the thick black wings on her pale skin providing a stark contrast to the grey stone of the hallway.

If anything, Tony's frown deepened, his brows almost pulling into themselves and his mouth disappearing amongst the lines in his face. He shifted the hide across his shoulders again (why did he have to draw so much attention to those muscles?) and walked ahead.

Benedict shook his head again. "Hit me one more time and watch what happens."

"You get your butt handed to you by Franklin and Winston?"

"I'd let Winston hand anything to me."

Neara blushed.

"But Franklin? A little old for my taste. I'm surprised you chose such a weak sheep."

"He's not a weak Sheep! Franklin is..."

"Yeah yeah yeah, your mate. I'm just saying if he was so powerful, he'd be able to protect you by himself."

Tony stood in the corner when they got to the room, standing next to the hide which he dropped to the ground. The strong sunlight, tempered by evening, gave the floor a golden sheen and made Tony's skin glow.

Benedict dropped her and draped himself over the balcony. His tail curled upwards and swayed back and forth in the wind.

The silence almost drove her from the room. She didn't want to think about Tony's glowing face or the downward tilt of his eyebrows, the thick calves sticking out of his tunic and the way his straight hair slightly curled when it was damp. Dammit. She needed Orson. That's all it was; hormones. She didn't really like Tony, she was just... lonely.

With that in mind, she lurched towards the clay, reaching underneath to extract a small handful. Tony watched, but didn't say anything. She knelt on the ground in front of a small table they'd carved for her, and started rolling the clay into small balls. Her thoughts went back to an art classroom in high school, the teacher dropping swords on people's desks and raving about unlocking their inner dragons. Ball-formed bowls would work until she could figure out how to make a throwing wheel. She'd never used one, but the scene from Ghost made it look important. Besides, this would be easier to make than trying to hand-form a pot.

The snow leopard fell asleep in the dwindling sunlight, a slight growl to his exhales. The tip of his ears twitched now and then, although she tried not to pay attention. She couldn't exactly look at Tony either, although the pressure of not looking made her feel like a forty-pound weight sat on her head. Instead, she memorized her fingers and watched the grey slime from the clay slowly coat them as she rolled the penny-sized pieces between her palms. Pinch, roll, discard, repeat. Soon she'd rolled the ball she'd grabbed for herself and she grabbed a nearby bowl for a mold. She'd forgotten how heavy the stone bowls were. It made an unpleasant squeaking sound as she dragged it across the floor. Benedict was probably awake by now and she flinched in apology.

Neither of the beastmen said anything and feeling like she couldn't look for their approval now, she kept her head down and focused on lining up the balls like it was the most important thing in the world. The smell of clay, dusty and wet at the same time, stuck inside her nose and her hands itched where the clay dried and flaked off. Carefully she pressed the balls into place, trying to ensure no cracks appeared between them. A simple process, but tedious. As she squeezed the last ball into place, she heard footsteps outside the door.