You just might be right. I suppose I could even draw something on a crane - though I suppose I'd best leave the whole art thing to my partner, who seems to possess the natural talent. Or not natural - his mother once showed me what he drew at ten years old. A crude magical hammer self-insert wizard. Yes, his talent being not-natural should be remembered, I suppose. I always diminish it by thinking otherwise.

Hm. Maybe the moral is: I, too, can learn how to draw, if such progress can be made?

[Viktor asks Giovanni with a friendly smile, goodnaturedly with only a hint of suppressed natural irony of everything that Vik may have just been born with, as a trencher]

[makes another crane] [looks at it critically] [remakes it] [somebody here might not have natural talent in own opinion, and, hint- yes that's Viktor] [the crane looks a bit better on the fourth try] [but Viktor still looks at it sceptically, as if it's still not worthy of the wish. does Giovanni say anything to that?]

And here I thought I was learning. I suppose that'd be too easy, [muttered by Viktor under breath], "the wings are still ever so uneven, the poor thing could only be seen with pity. I'll try again."

[turns to Giovanni sometime between remakings][and with a smile] Yes, my brain is one thing that needs no improvements, and I'm taking good care of it. I would not say it's perfect, as nobody likes a braggart. [there's a hint of a smile there, of humour][but only if one really, really looks][if one doesn't, the tone might as well be dead pan serious][[this is how trencher scientists fish for kindred spirits , what. well maybe not quite]