Palamedes nods, squinting as he wipes the last of the blood sweat from the corner of his eyes and then frowns at the handkerchief. Definitely ruined; he'll have to learn to do his own laundry, at last.

"That's fundamentally what we use our other wards for— the drawn kind. The purpose is conveyed in the shape, and the area plus the longevity usually depend on the size. And the quality of material. I've seen wards composed of bone, but I'm no bone adept - my constructs are clumsy child's play, at best. Wait 'til you see what I can do with a cupful of blood, though."

A beat. "Someday. Bloodletting is always a whole incident around here, you know."