[It's a fairly nice day in Luceti; nice enough to get Tattoi outside, at least. He's trudging along the path, resting a parasol on his shoulder and nibbling on some cookies, carrying a bag full of other delicious baked goods. For the most part, he seems happy. When he spots Jiraiya, though, he changes course. He vaguely remembers hearing about this ninja and his writing prowess; something new to read would be wonderful. So, he approaches.]
anywhere
Afternoon. May I ask what you're writing?