In a foggy, secluded, and slightly damp glade, on a wet and slightly mossy rock, Yvette Lowell reaches an empty hand into the nearby pond. Humming thoughtfully, she carefully extracts a delicate-looking platinum necklace, adorned with glittering fire opals. She takes a moment to peer at it in the light, decides that no, the platinum doesn't stand out well enough against pale marble skin, and promptly changes the necklace to a more traditional gold.

Designing jewelry is kind of a novel exercise. She has descriptions of what Rosalie wants, but there is this fuzzy area between dream and reality that requires a bit of experimentation to get the right sort of look. She'll have to send multiple copies, clearly, because she doesn't know Rosalie's aesthetic tastes well enough to match them with just one attempt. Since she's not constrained by materials, she can just make lots of jewelry, then pick and send the prettiest. Or maybe all of them, if she can find a box big enough and doesn't end up hating anything in particular.

She makes a few minor design changes, then dries the necklace by transmuting the water to air, and gently deposits it in the slowly growing pile of pretty transmuted jewelry, then reaches into the water for the next attempt.