[ Caitlyn's voice immediately tears Hilda's away from her portrait. Thankfully she has enough sense to pick up her brush so an errant stroke of red isn't dashed where it isn't meant to go. Her cheeks flush with a semblance of pleasure both at the woman's arrival and at the open invitation to paint her. ]

I don't think I could do a portrait of you justice, Cait.

[ The sketches she's creating are one thing, but an actual portrait? She doesn't possess the artistic skills of Ignatz, nor will she ever. Any sort of apprehension however is quickly upon realizing what Caitlyn is getting at. ]

Dancing?

[ A grin cracks across her face. If she weren't blushing before she is now. The portrait is essentially done anyway. ]

Really? I thought that you'd have your dance card full after the lessons you were giving earlier today.