Isabella took a step back and surveyed the leftover clay.
There was still enough to make three to five medium-sized pots, but she didn't want to rush. Some of the clay still needed a bit more drying time before it was workable, so she decided to make one pot first.
She gathered the softened clay and got to work.
The girls, still riding high on their newfound pottery slaying skills, stood beside her, watching with sharp, eager eyes.
Isabella sighed dramatically. "Can you two not breathe down my neck while I work?"
"We're just watching," Ophelia said innocently.
Shelia nodded. "Learning from the master."
"The master?" Isabella snorted. "You mean the same master who nearly lost her mind five minutes ago watching you both work magic with clay?"
The girls giggled, clearly not sorry.
