[littl3chocobo]

he let the ink flow through him for this was the talent of his family, though it was not seals on books he was singing in to creation with his pen but seals on hearts. he did not look up from his work as the other quieted. his refilled his pen and continued all around the dancing foxes and dragons he wrote seals dozens of them, each a capture each flawed in just such a way to render them unusable. he felt the song flow through him and he began to hum.