So just normal drawing then. Thumbing briefly back through the journal, he catches flashes of plenty of sad things, so it's not like this is a "just happy" journal. So he's safe to just do like the stuff he drew in Cucurucho's office, and not the stuff he drew with his little siblings.
He lets himself zone out, staring at the paper. Well, he should draw something blue, since the pen is blue. What can he draw that's blue?
The sparkle reminds him of blaze powder.
Trumpet draws Dan. He's been sketching this particular expression for days, the one from the moment where Trumpet realized that it being up and about wasn't a good thing; was in fact the worst thing ever. He can't get it quite right.
He certainly doesn't get it right here. The pen is thicker than the utensils he's used to, so the lines in its face aren't as precise as he would have liked. So he lets that first sketch be practice, and then does more. Dan angry. Dan angry again. Dan tired, because he's good at drawing that. Then just Dan's eyes, the angry look in them.
The ink smudges as Trumpet draws the side of his hand across it. He clicks his tongue angrily, then pauses and studies the effect more carefully.
He draws an angry Dan that takes up most of the page, leaving that little section at the bottom for Pomme. This time he presses thicker as he draws Dan's hair, letting the ink pool up in the careful lines, then starts rubbing his thumb in quick, vertical strokes to help it give the impression of blaze flame. He makes himself a blue thumbprint of ink and carefully uses it to denote the glow in Dan's eyes.
There's pictures of stuff that happened, and then there's pictures of feelings. This is a good feeling-picture. Trumpet's never worked with ink before. He'd thought that the permanence of it would be scary, but he's finding that he likes that it can't be erased.
He starts to shade with the pen, trying different techniques, and loses all sense of time.
