Tali's thoughts were particularly Dwarven at this moment. She couldn't think of things in an artistic sense-the Dwarven mind didn't work that way-she could only compose her feelings in literal, physical way.
...She felt like an old barrel, that someone had plugged a hole and drained out the stagnant water, and scrubbed clean. An broken Axe lifted from the muck, repaired, polished and sharpened. A chipped ale mug, forged anew, studded with rubies and diamonds, and lined with bands of brass and gold-and refilled with ale.
And yet, she remained gruff, but smiling and messing with Raes hair.
"Aye, silly Elf, you're squeezing me to death. Nary a death I'd warrant as sweet, though..." she had said, with a wink and smile.
"...Aye, what'd I'd give to have another week at the birdhouse...a right pretty pair we made, didn't we? Yeah...two axes, one sheath you could say."
Tali had enjoyed the weekend-fairly much. She had taken to calling the tree cabin they had inhabited the 'Bird House'-and she was uncomfortable at first...
"...Lucky I didn't fall out of that crazy birdhouse and break my legs...especially while we were, you know, rolling around...heh. Dwarves aren't meant to fly.
Not that I wouldn't try if you asked me Rae. You'd know I'd try for you."
And on, and on...Tali had a feeling she was making something with Rae-something very important. All her craftsdwarfship would have to apply...if it was going to turn out perfect.
....
Later Tali strolled down the gangplank from the ship, strutting with her hands on her axes. If anything, her new feelings had mingled with her old-her bloodlust and real lust, so to say. She was almost eager for a fight...
She mentioned to her closest compatriot.
"What in the Nine Hells d'you suppose those are?" Tali said, pointing to the ships with the steam pipes on them.
"Are they lighting fires IN their ships? What sort of magic is that?"