Melodies in the Wind

Shaping the Clay

The sun was setting over Beach City, casting the sky in hues of pink and gold as Amara wandered through the winding streets. She had been feeling a little restless lately, so she decided to take a little wander around the town. There were times when she felt grounded, like she truly belonged, but then there were moments like this—quiet, slow afternoons when the weight of the worries crept back in.

She wasn't sure where her feet were taking her, but when she stumbled across a little pottery studio tucked away on a side street, it caught her eye. The place was called Clay and Soul, a small shop with windows that had worn, handmade signs painted in delicate, faded letters. It looked inviting, warm, and peaceful. The soft tinkling of wind chimes played as she pushed the door open, stepping inside.

The atmosphere inside was completely different from the bustling beach. There was a calmness in the air, and the rich scent of clay and earth filled the space. Shelves lined the walls with various handmade pots, mugs, and bowls—each piece uniquely shaped and glazed in earthy tones. Soft music played in the background, something gentle and melodic.

Amara glanced around and spotted a few pottery wheels in the corner, where a woman about her age was carefully working. She was striking, with long dark brown hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall, and her skin was a deep tan, glowing in the soft light. She moved with grace, her motions fluid and precise as she shaped a lump of clay. Her presence radiated elegance, and it made Amara pause.

She hesitated by the doorway, unsure whether she should stay. Pottery wasn't something she had ever really tried before, and she certainly wasn't good at it. But something about the peaceful atmosphere of the studio felt like it might be exactly what she needed.

Before she could make up her mind, the girl with the dark brown hair looked up, catching Amara's eye with a warm smile. Her green eyes sparkled as she set her hands on the clay, pausing her work for a moment. "Hey," she said, her voice soft and inviting. "You look like you're new here."

Amara blinked, a little surprised by the attention. "Uh, yeah," she said, feeling a little self-conscious. "I've never really done pottery before. I... I just saw the studio and thought I'd come in."

The girl's smile widened. "Well, you've come to the right place. I'm Maliah," she said, standing up from her wheel and wiping her hands on her apron. "I can show you how it works, if you want to give it a try."

Amara felt a small surge of relief. "Yeah, that'd be cool. I don't really know where to start."

"Don't worry, it's pretty simple once you get the hang of it. Let me show you."

Maliah led Amara over to one of the unused pottery wheels and sat her down. The wheel was a little intimidating up close, but Maliah's calm presence put her at ease.

"First thing's first," Maliah said, her fingers gently tapping a lump of clay in front of Amara. "You want to center the clay on the wheel. It might seem tricky, but once you feel the rhythm of it, it gets easier."

Amara gave her a small nod and placed her hands on the clay, trying to center it, but the clay kept wobbling beneath her fingers. She let out a small laugh, frustrated by her lack of progress. "This is harder than I thought," she muttered.

Maliah chuckled softly and moved closer. "It takes a little practice," she said, her voice light but soothing. She placed her hands over Amara's, guiding them gently. The touch was light but firm, her fingers working alongside Amara's as they guided the clay into shape.

"Feel the clay, let it guide you," Maliah said softly. "You don't need to force it—just find its rhythm. Relax into it."

Amara's heart skipped a beat as Maliah's hands stayed over hers. The intimacy of the moment was undeniable. It wasn't anything romantic—not yet, at least—but it was certainly close, in a way that made Amara feel something unexpected. She could feel the warmth of Maliah's hands through her own, the gentle pressure guiding her as the clay slowly began to smooth out.

For a moment, Amara just let herself go, surrendering to the process and the calmness that Maliah's presence brought. She let go of the tension in her shoulders, her breath deepening, and slowly the lump of clay on the wheel began to take shape, gradually forming into a small, uneven bowl. It wasn't perfect, but it was hers.

"See?" Maliah said, pulling her hands away, allowing Amara to finish on her own. "You did it."

Amara looked down at the bowl she had made, a small smile forming on her face. "It's... better than I thought it would be."

Maliah laughed. "It's all about patience and a little practice. You'll get the hang of it. Want to try again?"

Amara nodded, already feeling more confident. She reached for another lump of clay, ready to try again. But this time, her hands were steadier, and her focus sharper. She could feel Maliah watching her, but not in a way that made her feel nervous. It was like she was being supported, without any pressure.

They spent the next hour or so working together, with Maliah showing Amara different techniques and ways to mold the clay into different shapes. Maliah was patient and kind, and she had a way of explaining things that made them easy to understand. There was a natural rhythm to their interaction, one that Amara had rarely felt with anyone before.

When the hour came to a close, Amara stood up from the wheel, feeling a sense of pride in her work. She had created several small pieces—none of them perfect, but each one a little better than the last.

"That was... really fun," Amara said, turning to Maliah with a smile. "Thanks for helping me."

"Of course," Maliah said, returning the smile. "You were a natural at it. I'm glad you came in. You should come back sometime. Pottery's good for clearing your head."

Amara nodded, feeling a warmth in her chest. "I'll definitely come back. It's been a long time since I've done something like this."

"Anytime," Maliah said, her voice gentle. "And if you ever need a hand with something, or just want to chat, I'm here."

For the first time in a while, Amara felt like she had made a connection with someone beyond the Crystal Gems. It was a good feeling. Maliah was different from the people she had known so far, and there was something comforting about the way she carried herself, so elegant and assured.

After so much time messing with the clay, her tight gray shirt now had small smudges of hard clay on it. She didn't mind though.

As she walked out of the studio, Amara felt lighter, like a little piece of the weight she had been carrying had slipped away. It wasn't just the pottery—it was the feeling of being understood, even without having to say much. It was the connection that Maliah had offered, a small gesture that meant more than words could express.