"I'm a carpenter," Will said with a self-conscious shrug. He didn't know why it was so damn hard to take a compliment on his work. He knew he was a skilled hand. He couldn't remember rightly if carpentry had been his first trade – anything in his life before the Merry Men was lost to time, and perhaps had never been – but it was the one he'd come back to the most over the years, and the one that felt right. But it wasn't anything special.
God, he was being an oaf. Clio had fallen in so naturally with his friends, and here he was barely managing a proper sentence. He had to do better than that. "So, what... uh, what do you do, Calliope?" he asked, nudging some cheese onto a cracker for himself.