[Most of the morning, Ceodore's outside the house working on putting the finishing touches on a sizable pen. Who it's intended to contained is fairly obvious, if the disgruntled warking of a half-grown, black chocobo is any indication. The bird's been tethered to one of the posts so he can't get away and into trouble, while his owner slaves away on
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[He's got a fair collection of armaments stashed in his room. Force of habit.]
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...What is that?
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Oh, that's Kelmis. He's a chocobo.
... you've not seen one before?
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[Looking more carefully. A rather large bird with small wings, and its cry is definitely unusual.]
Does it fly?
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He's grown.
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Quite a bit. He's too big to keep in the house anymore.
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[Vague envy, even if a chocobo is hardly as amazing as a dragon. But he keeps that thought to himself. Still, the black ones can at least get airborne...]
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