Sakura studied the little boy thoughtfully for several moments.  Anger quietly seethed inside of the fire elemental that someone had treated this child so.  She could catch that he was especially nervous since taking his shirt up.  So she took a step to the side and turned to face him.  “That's a truly beautiful tattoo.  Thank you very much for showing me.  Who gave it to you?  I was worried that you'd gotten it too young, and it would malform as you grew, but I see this will always maintain it's perfection.”<br/><br/>The raven haired girl walked backwards towards the kitchen.  She could feel her own tattoo peering over her shoulder with interest.  She sometimes wondered if  it really moved, or it was just her imagination.  The entity—well, identity—that was bound there no longer threatened to subsume the individual who was Sakura.  With that instinctive battle past, she was starting too feel a quite respect and admiration for the slowly regenerating dragon on her back.<br/><br/>“What do you know about our host?” she inquired.  “Is he responsible for your tattoo?  There's a lot of magic here.  I saw transforming chairs like those when I worked on the blessed isle.  I think the chimes are a product of sorcery.  They're really amazing.”