[Norimune's looking at the stacks of perfectly cube shaped stones. Some of them are piled atop of each other. Each one showing a part of a pattern on one side, but seemingly incompletely... as if they're a puzzle waiting to be solved.
He tilt his head, tapping his folded fan at his chin. The solution seems obvious, but there's the matter of "moving the stones".]
i-b
He tilt his head, tapping his folded fan at his chin. The solution seems obvious, but there's the matter of "moving the stones".]
Hm... whatever shall this old man do?