"My first hammer was so lopsided it made bent things more crooked!" laughed one young smith.
"I thought the blacksmith was going to throw me out of the forge one day when I dropped the half-molten block on his foot" another said.
Shanku listened as the young dwarves around her bragged of their failures and mistakes. Of how they had disappointed their instructors. She couldn't believe how they could be proud of such disgraces. Anything below perfection was a mark of being unworthy of the time spent on your education. Was that not what she was taught as a pup when learning to hunt? And yet, here they all were. Imperfect, accident-prone, and all well on their way to becoming smiths of their own forges someday. She stirred her soup sluggishly. Part of her was disgusted with how sloppy they were in their work, and yet, a part of her was jealous at how relaxed they were allowed to be.