The clay dolls gaining sentience was somewhat unexpected, but since they didn’t seem malicious, I couldn’t really bring myself to care too much. Worrying about it would just be a waste of time, and compared to all the other stuff I didn’t comprehend about this world, a couple of sentient dolls seemed almost trivial.
Yup, I don’t care! I don’t care... You got it, me?! I really don’t care, okay?!
I willed myself to focus on the newly renovated dining room—while also trying to ignore the fact that some of the One Eyes now seemed to be making wooden cups and plates, because acknowledging it would mean I’d start fixating on how they’d figured out how to make them.
Oh, they made chopsticks too! Eating will be so much easier now. Wow, it’s like they were made for my hand! Not gonna worry about where they learned about chopsticks from, though! Nope, not me!
I also didn’t dwell on the fact that they’d added a comfortable headboard with convenient shelves to my bed, and I definitely didn’t worry about the handrails they’d installed along all of the staircases.
I was pretty sure no one was around when I fell over, though... Nope, not thinking about it, remember?
Nor was I concerned when, a few days later, I woke up to a frantically gesturing One Eye standing on top of me. Eventually, I figured out they’d run out of planks, so I quickly transformed another massive tree for them. Later that day I stumbled into the bathroom to discover they’d outfitted the bathtub with polished wood like a fancy onsen.
I think you guys are starting to go a little overboard...
After failing for days on end, I finally managed to successfully turn the hides into a usable material. The first step was to scrape off any fat, membranes, and other excess junk from the inside of the hides. I’d first tried using magic, but the control needed was too precise for me, and the hide went to waste. Next, I’d attempted it with a knife, but the second hide ended up with just as many holes as the first. After a lot of practice, I managed to scrape the hides clean without putting too many holes in them and moved on to the next step: washing them.
I’d cast Clean on the monsters before butchering them, but the hides were still dotted with patches of obstinate grime. Hand-washing seemed to be the only thing that worked, but it was an extremely laborious task. I was exhausted by the time I’d finished the first hide—even more so when I realized it had shrunk to about a sixth of its original size during the process.
After so much effort too...
Despite how difficult the work had been so far, the next challenge was even more formidable: drying the hides. No matter what I tried, the hides always ended up becoming stiff and unusable. And once they’d stiffened, there was no way to make them pliable again. Soaking them in water for days, massaging them, beating them with a wooden pole—nothing helped. I’d been stuck with the stiff hides for a few days at this point but had yet to make any further progress—that is, until today.
I’d just made a potentially exciting (albeit accidental) discovery.
I’d been washing a new hide yesterday. After the last speck of grime finally released its stubborn hold, I transferred the hide to a clean tub of water to rinse it out. Usually, I used magic to swirl the water around, but yesterday, on a whim, I’d picked up a nearby branch and swirled it by hand instead. A minute later the wolves had come back from their daily hunting trip, so I’d left the rinsing unfinished to go and butcher their newest kills—and forgot to go back and finish the job. I only remembered the half-rinsed hide a few minutes ago. I rushed outside to find the hide and branch exactly where I’d left them submerged in the water. I yanked the hide out of the tub, hoping I hadn’t inadvertently ruined it—only to find that it was softer and more flexible than any of the hides I’d washed before.
The only difference was the branch... Crap, the branch! Which one was it?!
Fortunately, after a slightly frenzied search, I was able to find the branch I’d used. A careful inspection of it had revealed a few sticky nodules of white sap—likely the missing link in my quest for soft hides. Obviously, I immediately set out to find the tree in question, and I was now the proud owner of a massive stone jar of white sap.
Okay, maybe I gathered a bit too much... Oh well.
I looked at the hide in front of me thoughtfully.
But I want to at least try making something out of it... Oh, it’s no good. I’d just screw it up anyway.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I couldn’t deny that giving the hide over to the clay dolls would probably provide a much better result than anything I could achieve.
Still kinda depressing, though.
I managed to shake off my funk by the time I finished making the four new clay dolls, which I lovingly named the Gremlins on account of the single small horn jutting out from each of their foreheads.
I know you guys will do a better job than me... It’s not like I’m just dumping my work on you, okay?! And I’m definitely not upset!
I made them a couple of stone knives and explained the process, asking them to start by removing the fat. Just as I’d predicted, the first hide they attempted surpassed even my neatest work.
And without even a single hole either... I still ended up making a few holes even when I tried my best...
Next, the Gremlins transferred the hide into a shallow basin of water I made for them and washed the hides by jumping up and down with all their might. Despite their tiny size, they finished washing the hides in far less time than it would have taken me, possibly because their masterful scraping had already made the hide more malleable than any of mine had been.
I give up. I don’t know why I bothered trying in the first place.
Finally, they soaked the hide in a self-determined solution of water and sap overnight, before hanging it out to dry. Figuring out how to process the hides had taken far longer than I’d expected, but being immediately outdone by a few clay dolls didn’t surprise me at all by now.
A few days later, I walked into the bedroom to find a large, soft fur laid on top of my bed. I slept comfortably that night.