"Well, yes, but I'm trying to offer some consolation, here." He's teasing, still, and making an effort to maintain the lightness in his voice, in answer to the warmth in the Bull's. "After I've ground Corypheus' face into the dirt, the bards may be scrambling over themselves to pen dozens of songs about me, but you, at least, technically already have one.

"And besides, at this current juncture, I haven't even got one, whether it's for personal use or public enjoyment. So you could consider yourself to be winning the race, at present. Even Sera has inspired a song before I have. It's practically criminal, honestly."