Sylvain is not an artist - he typically leaves that entirely to Hilda, in fact - but he’d been drawn by the novelty of it, and his own curiosity about the arcana of this place. While he hadn’t yet started to create anything for his own, the Sun, he’d been meandering around where some of the others were creating images, curious how others would make their own unique sign.

Spotting the intricate wheel over a stranger’s shoulder, he gives a low whistle as he takes in the sight of it. It’s the spears that had caught his eye, the familiar shape one he’s far too familiar with, being a lancer, but as he takes in the rest of the image, the amount of details cleverly tucked into the image of what should be a simple wheel are impressive.

“Wow, that looks amazing! You’ve a talent for that.”