08-18-2019, 07:52 PM
He’s not much of an inventor, but he hadn’t been much of a singer either.
Somehow, he thinks, this may be even further outside of the realm of his comfort zone.
He is a simple man of simple means, a lowly wayfarer.
His brainpower goes largely unused in all of his wandering.
This is an individual assignment and he does not have his groupmates to lean on.
He wanders the classroom, ruminating. The muscles and the joints ache with the effort. He so scarcely stops moving that the muscles rarely get the chance to recuperate. He does not rest them long enough to ever feel refreshed.
It is this he is thinking about when he finally comes to a stop in the corner of the classroom. He is plain and ordinary and entirely without magic, so he is grateful for the magic that the classroom affords them. He could do not it on his own.
He thinks about the aching in his joints, persistent. Relentless. And then, by magic, a vapor appears before him. A cloud like smoke, except thinner. There is no smell. But when he inhales it, the pain in his tired body immediately disappears. The muscles relax and the joints stop their aching. It truly is magic, he thinks, that he could think of this thing that plagued him and be immediately handed the antidote.
There is a sly, secret smile that ties up one corner of his mouth as he takes to the front of the classroom. “My creation is a gas, which by nature is colorless but I have added a slight color to it so that it can be seen by the naked eye.” He nods to it now, hanging there in the air above his head, contained by magic.
“As a gas, it has neither a boiling point nor a freezing point. I made it because I am a nomad by nature and I do all of my traveling by foot. It is a pain reliever that can be inhaled, though I could not explain to you how its paining relieving properties work. Its main purpose in a horse’s life is to serve as a remedy for pain, be it from wandering or from battling.” He clears his throat then, trying to remember all that he’d been told to explain.
“It can be dangerous in large doses and should not be inhaled unless the horse is actually in pain.” He tips back his head to peer up at the white-ish gas above him. “I call it ‘Relief’, primarily because I am not especially inventive.” He shrugs then before returning to the fray, his invention dissolving into thin air as he does.