[ An artist himself (though never self-proclaimed), Grantaire should naturally fit right into this community. In a way, he does. He speaks easily with the artists, and on completely friendly terms. Most of them seem to be fond of him as well, finding him to be a good humored fellow when he isn’t too intoxicated.

His self-doubt and lack of motivation are absolutely crippling, however, and he does not volunteer his own artistic skills. Better to just observe, as he joins this stranger in doing, inclining his head as a sculptor chisels away at the delicate folds of a dragon’s wings. ]

They’re fond of these creatures in this city. [ He gestures vaguely down the line. There are murals of dragons, carvings of dragons. Dragons everywhere. ] I’ve been here for I don’t know how long, and I still haven’t decided if they’re ugly or not.

[ He pauses abruptly and leans in a little bit closer to the sculpture, smiling at the artist as he does. ]

Ah, I think I’ve just made up my mind. The craftsmanship is very fine, but the subject may indeed be ugly.