Shifting only enough to see the mark offered, O'danya couldn't help but let her expression lighten. She knew exactly what that was, and looked up to Rumpelstiltskin with a twinkle in her eye.

"A weaver, then?" she asked. What else could a spindle mean? Much as she sometimes found the monotony of spinning the thread and weaving the cloth distasteful, it was a simple and lucrative pastime that had no end of possibilities. She owed quite a lot to Redolent Rose for his tutelage, but now began to wonder at how those from other worlds might see fashion and the creation process behind it.