[ In truth, Susato doesn't really know what she wishes to know either. Inspiration can strike from a variety of places; she merely has to wait for it as she listens to Beatrix speak about him. Susato can sense a fondness behind the General's voice that makes her smile. ]
I see. Poetry... He is an author.
[ She gently taps a finger to her chin. What is the first thing that comes to mind when she thinks about an author? A pen, perhaps, or... a typewriter.
no subject
I see. Poetry... He is an author.
[ She gently taps a finger to her chin. What is the first thing that comes to mind when she thinks about an author? A pen, perhaps, or... a typewriter.
Or... ]
Perhaps something like an inkwell, then.