[He just watches as she frames his face with Ls, and then compares it to the "art" she's made below. Henry wears his usual pristine, unaffected polite smile, but there's something at its corners that twitches. In another lifetime, perhaps, were he born "normal" and bereft of powers, he would've been an artist. He's always had something of an inclination.

That was never the reality presented to him. But here, in Solvunn, there is often time aplenty to examine and encourage and explore long-dead talent. Even if it's as something as silly and meaningless as making a mask; the very thing that Henry derides other people for wearing (metaphorically), hypocrite as he is.]

I think the nose needs work. [There, he gave a criticism without being overly mean about it.] If you don't mind, I can help you straighten out the features just a little more to look more... face-like. I've been dabbling in art now and again, so I think I can manage it.