Your claws. So it's not just hand-carved, it's hand-carved.

[He rotates the statue slightly in his hands, admiring the craftsmanship in light of this new information. He tries to imagine Adrian at work on it, one claw extended, painstakingly etching in ridge after ridge of the scales along the tail — for him. For him. To make him happy.]

It's great. I really...it's. You're amazing.

[A hint of a grin tugs at the edge of his mouth.]

Dragons make you think of me now, huh?