the reclusive doll knows far more about repair dollcraft than any other doll you've ever met.
"how did you learn all this?" you ask, pulling an opaque stocking up over a formerly shattered shin. if you look very closely, you might see the cracks, but that's better than you ever managed with just epoxy and your own fingers.
she takes a long sip of the pu-erh you brought her. (hard to get. you couldn't run from loss prevention, so you had to be perfect on the first try.) finally she says, "you really should try this."
it smells better than anything you've had this month, but you're paying her with the stuff, and you don't want to cut into her profits.
"thank you, but this doll drinks greens, mostly."
she shrugs. "your loss. so. i can tell you two stories… up to you what you want to believe."
the reclusive doll continues, "one is about a doll who figured dollcraft out by hard work. she can patch and sand and re-charm you like this, because a hundred other dolls came to her first, and got the best she could do for them then… and maybe a hundred dolls from now, she'll be even better; if you'd broken six months from now, there wouldn't even be a mark, who knows."
you notice that the china cup from which she's sipping tea has a thin crack. you wouldn't have noticed, but one of the roses only has three-quarters of a petal.
"and the other?"
"perhaps," she says, "she used to be a good doll, a real proper polite witch-toy. maybe the witch even had her help build new dolls, taught her a thing or two, just so the witch wouldn't have to do the boring parts, and what she can do now, that's just what she remembers. a few scraps from the witch's table, turned to mending instead of making."
you hear a very faint clatter, notice a judder in her hands that can't have been there earlier in the afternoon when her careful fingers were inside you. the teacup clattering ever so faintly against the saucer. only another doll would notice.
"that tea does smell quite good," you say. "perhaps just a sip?"
"oh, not a problem, let me pour you a fresh cup…" and her movements return to their normal grace.
old habits die hard, you suppose. if this was your place — if you had a place, hah, more like, if there was a place for you — you'd want to serve a guest too. so it goes.
it really is very good tea. □
