Bokurou

That one? They will spend a month just listening to a boulder before making a single mark. The potters in The Heart of the Forest often said this with a mix of awe and friendly confusion. While others in the clearing sang or danced, Bokurou practiced a quieter art. They would sit for weeks before a single uncut stone, hip specs perched on their nose, a chocolate stick held thoughtfully in one hand. They claimed every rock had a song, and their job was not to carve it, but to help it sing. They would run a feather from their cape along the surface, feeling for the right vibration through their chakra stone. Most days ended with nothing but a sunset and another finished chocolate stick. But on the days it worked, a perfect slice would fall away with a single touch, revealing a flawless curve no chisel could replicate.