Excited as he is about this artistic exercise, using a strange magic and managing the same dexterity he could with his own fingers (if he still had them), Papyrus doesn't want to completely empty the clearing of sand. That seems rude to the people who live here. Clearly, the solution is to go skim a little bit of sand from many other places, and bring it all here.
So he's been venturing off and back, returning to the statuary clearing with huge clumps of sand floating through the water behind him. The combination of ring magic and blue magic works pretty well for moving it quickly, at least.
As he maneuvers the latest pile of sand to the edge of the clearing, thinking about what to create next, he hears complimentary words. Words said in the presence of his art, by somebody looking at his art.
"Isn't it??" the skeleton rocklobster gasps, pressing huge claws to his cheeks, delighted. "You have good taste!"
your sentence for 10000 years dungeon is commuted for time already served
So he's been venturing off and back, returning to the statuary clearing with huge clumps of sand floating through the water behind him. The combination of ring magic and blue magic works pretty well for moving it quickly, at least.
As he maneuvers the latest pile of sand to the edge of the clearing, thinking about what to create next, he hears complimentary words. Words said in the presence of his art, by somebody looking at his art.
"Isn't it??" the skeleton rocklobster gasps, pressing huge claws to his cheeks, delighted. "You have good taste!"