The crone wasn't laughing; she'd never done this sort of thing, not exactly. She wasn't even sure she could make it work. The damn cabin had truly become more its own creature, even if it was still happy to get her attention. The City had let it grow and evolve somehow. Next thing she'd know, the damn thing would make walking luggage or something just as ridiculous.
There was a pause, and then the bloody prints the ones she'd made as well as the ones he made seemed to become part of wood and stone. She, like many expectant types before her, realized she'd been holding her breath only when she let it go.