she stares at me in abject confusion as I take stock of my tools. a look of dissatisfaction brews on her face. "but why is one golden?" the woman asks.
I tug nervously at my coat, feeling the slightest bit insulted. "well, it's not cheap to have a matching pair," I tell her. "not everyone can afford two golden axes."
"why not two silver axes?"
"I had the money for one golden axe."
the woman crosses her arms. "but the gold is worse for everything you'd want an axe to do."
"it's not. it was more expensive and also really hard to find."
"gold" she says, "is softer than silver."
"it's literally not, though," I say. "that's a really common misconception, but pure silver is softer than gold."
"most metal sold as silver is actually an alloy. that axe is probably sterling silver. I don't believe for a second someone made you a pure silver axe."
I look at my axe, then back to the woman, then back to my axe.
"it was pure silver when it went into the river."
an unreadable expression. with a great splash, the woman disappears into the current.
