Tristan understands the feeling well. The need to be [i]doing[/i], always. He is a troll hunter so obsessed with [i]readiness[/i] that he has the skills to sew an elaborate dress, just in case. And here it is, the case for it. 

"We do everything we can. This is what I can do, and so it is what I am useful doing." Tristan stabs his thumb with the pin, winces. The material makes it so hard to judge [i]depth[/i]. "If you can think of something better, I'm with you. But being useful is not always feeling it, and feeling useful is not always being it." 

Tristan raises his head a bit. "How about you, Sir Harold? Any suggestions for better efforts?" The question is earnest and devoid of sarcasm. Clearly he knows more than he's telling. But maybe he can suggest [i]around[/i] what he's clearly not supposed to say directly. 

If he has any, it best he speak before Tristan has to work with the sheers again. Cutting the fabric neatly has been a [i]nightmare[/i].