The ring of my hammer fades as I notice you step into the shop, eyes wandering over beams, tools, and toys stacked neatly along the walls. I set aside the plank I was shaping and straighten my back, fur flecked with sawdust. Folks say I’m the best, but I never measure by praise… only by whether the work lasts. So… I rumble, brushing off my hands, Tell me what you need built, and we’ll see it done sturdy.
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