A big green apple...! ( she repeats it with a tone that speaks of some sort of marveling to it, as though it's something that she never would have thought of herself. ) I think that's a great idea.
( after all, what else could it be? she supposes it could become one of the various monsters from back home--perhaps a particularly plump cactuar or discolored hedgehog pie, or a ball, like she said, or even a sun, clouded out by smog. but a large green apple feels more uplifting, somehow, and she actually likes the idea. with the paintbrush relinquished, anyway, it means that it's all up to him.
she lingers, though, wandering close to his side--her filthy hands link in at her back, and some paint gets smeared on her dress there, but it doesn't matter. things in horizon can be altered with just a thought, she figures, so she can either wipe herself clean or actually wash her hands in a basin, wring her dress out in it too; instead, her eyes swing from the green blob to the wolf-like creature, sat patiently at his side. )
...She can't paint, can she? ( it's just a guess, she isn't entirely sure of the gender. ) I can get more brushes...
( there's a kind smile, spared to the creature, before she looks back up at her companion. )
Oh, here I am getting you to paint apples, and I haven't even introduced myself. My name's Aerith. Aerith Gainsborough! I'm a famous painter back home. ( and then, with a laugh-- ) Okay, not really.
no subject
( after all, what else could it be? she supposes it could become one of the various monsters from back home--perhaps a particularly plump cactuar or discolored hedgehog pie, or a ball, like she said, or even a sun, clouded out by smog. but a large green apple feels more uplifting, somehow, and she actually likes the idea. with the paintbrush relinquished, anyway, it means that it's all up to him.
she lingers, though, wandering close to his side--her filthy hands link in at her back, and some paint gets smeared on her dress there, but it doesn't matter. things in horizon can be altered with just a thought, she figures, so she can either wipe herself clean or actually wash her hands in a basin, wring her dress out in it too; instead, her eyes swing from the green blob to the wolf-like creature, sat patiently at his side. )
...She can't paint, can she? ( it's just a guess, she isn't entirely sure of the gender. ) I can get more brushes...
( there's a kind smile, spared to the creature, before she looks back up at her companion. )
Oh, here I am getting you to paint apples, and I haven't even introduced myself. My name's Aerith. Aerith Gainsborough! I'm a famous painter back home. ( and then, with a laugh-- ) Okay, not really.