It would be appropriate if Jaeger wandered by then with his mane showcasing the same character, unbeknownst to Annie. Her fingertips twitched as he drew, almost but not quite ticklish. It was strange, if not unwelcome, having someone drawing on her palm, but it also made sense. She focused on the movement of his finger, tracking it between the visual and the physical, brow furrowing a touch in concentration.

"So many lines," she said, "All this to say fields of fire. Sounds poetic. Or warlike, depending." Perspective was everything, she supposed.

"What are the characters for your given name?"