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"No no, not at all." he gestured to all the large frame prints that had dozens of images on them. "Zee zes? I made all of zem. Zometimez people come in and they zee zomething 'ere and zey think it would look good on zem and zey get them tattooed on zem. All you need iz zomeone to like what you 'ave made and before you know it, you 'ave your art on zomeone'z arm or leg or zomething. It'z an amazing feeling."

Just as CC has suggested, Ink got a thick stack of blank printer paper and his old copic marker set out. He set it up next to his own set up with his tablet and laptop. This way Tinker would be both occupied and in sight. The way the boy talked and ran through thoughts, Ink decided that occupying him was the best thing to do.

"Well zat iz true." Ink sat beside the colt and picked up his pen tool. "But zay, zomeone 'as alwayz wanted a tattoo of a blue feathzer but never thought zat zey could find zuch a zing. They might zee a picture of a blue feathzer on ze wall of a tattoo artizt and feel "Ahh, zat iz juzt 'ow I 'ave alwayz zought ze feathzer would be like! It ztill meanz everyzing to zat perzon, zomeone elze juzt dezigned it for zem. It'z ze symbolizm, not who drew it zat countz."

Ink pressed the pen tool to his tablet and started to work on the piece he had started before CC came dragging in mister mcjabber to his shop. The long design had many small elements, beads and other small designs to make it look like a fancy upper arm accessory, he'd found that human women were getting more and more into these kind of tattoos.

Ink hadn't noticed that Tinker's attention had wondered, and if the truth were told, sort of forgot the colt was there because he'd be so quiet. He saw a flash of green out of the corner of his eye heading towards one of the tattoo stations. He saved his work and stood up, starting to call out to Tink but stopped. He didn't want to sound like he was being mean and scolding the boy but at the same time if he was too friendly, he might not be taken seriously. Ink inwardly groaned. This was stupid, HE was the adult here.

"Ah ah, be careful wiz zat.." he walked over to where Tinker was.

"Ah zoz.." Ink took up the tattoo gun and took it apart, as if it clean it, and laid out the parts on a tray, explaining each one in turn. He talked about how the needles dart back and forth very quickly, pushing ink under the skin of a phony or person and that you never really felt anything like a needle poking you and what kind of work you were doing depended on how many needles you used at the same time. Ink pushed the tray up to the colt.

"If you are careful, you can touch ze pieczes..or try and put ze gun back together.." he thought this might amuse the colt more then markers and paper.

Ink was relieved. The colt looked far more interested in the device then paper and markers. The front door bell chimed and a human customer walked in. Ink looked up and smiled. "Ahhh 'ello Richard..are we 'ere for a touch up or for zomezing new..?" He turned to Tink. "Please excuze me, I muzt talk to my cuztomer. Don't go wondering off and come and get me if you need zomezing." That should have sounded simple, yet firm enough. Ink walked over to the man named Richard who had rolled up his sleeve and began discussing something with him.

Ink popped over to where he HAD left Tink to as the colt if he wanted to watch him actually tattoo a person and blinked when he wasn't here. "Tink..?" He turned and started to look all around his shop.

"Tinker?" he looked under the counter.

"Tink?" he scanned under every tattoo station.

"TINKER TOY?!" he opened the door in the back that led to his apartment over the shop and shouted up the stair.

Not getting any answered, Ink began to cuss in French, looking under and inside everything a colt could hide in AGAIN before standing in front of the shop, tapping his hooves anxiously. Oh man oh man oh man oh man if he lost that kid and something happened CC would KILL him. No mercy, no begging, just instant death.

Ink ushered Richard out of his shop, explaining the regrettable sudden closure on some chick he knew dumping her kid in his lap for the day. Richard understood, he has a sister who's the same way and agrees to come back another day. Ink was grateful.

Where could he have gone, where where where where. Ink wracked his brain and in his panicked state he could only think of all the horrible places where Tinker could be; coltnapped, hurt in a ditch, in an oven! He had no idea why Tink would be in a oven BUT HE COULD BE THERE!! Ok. Ok ok ok ok..deep breaths, deep breaths. If you were bored and dropped off in a shop randomly in town, where would I go.

Ink turned and headed for CC's Kiss-O-Gram place.

Ink heard him before he saw him. The stream of colorful language spewing out of the colt's mouth was amusing and made Ink grin before he remembered he was annoyed that Tink had wandered off. He saw the bright red tail flicking about agitated and approched his charge from behind.

"Tink! I zought I told you not to ztay in ze shop! You 'ad me scared for my life juzt dizapearzing like zat!" He give the red tail a little pull to extract the boy from the bush. "And what are you doing under zere..?"