He slowly nodded his understanding. "I see. My home was bordered on two sides by water that was difficult to reach, at the foot of cliffs, or too fast-moving to trust. We kept ourselves to wells except for those few who would brave the waters to fish. I... was not of that number."

He had mistrusted water for as long as he could remember. He didn't know the cause, but he knew that being near it was enough to set his nerves on edge and swimming was far, far out of the question.

"The practice of soaking wood this way - I assume it makes it go soft until it dries into the shape you wish? Does it regain its original hardness?" This, he thought, could be useful in many, many ways. The uses for a good hook were many. The uses for spears even moreso. But if they were to have plows, they would need the harnesses and more. That would require good woodwork.