Birdie nodded as she took back her sketchbook and picked up the pencil, “Oh, I can see that, gotta have the big portrait to remind people who you are when you stand next to it.” She flashed him a quick grin before putting pencil to paper and starting to sketch - not as precise as she would usually be - a rudimentary idea of what that would look like. She looked away for a moment to roll her eyes at the weevil, “Annoying little thing, it probably wants the candy in my bag.” She shook her head before pausing her doodle, looking up at him with a smile, “I will definitely consider it. Hm? Oh, well, before I began work on my next masterpiece,” she teased, “I was sketching people dancing, having fun, being happy - I’m abysmal at the dancing myself but I like watching it, you know?” Okay, maybe abysmal was a bit of a strong word but she’d shied away from being the center of attention ever since her parents had disappeared, not wanting any more questions or sympathies that the dancing seemed to bring with it.
"Yeah, 'cause otherwise, people definitely wouldn't recognize me," Kyle joked, though his demeanour was still relatively deadpan. They were a small community, and anyone who had been around a long time knew everyone else's business. They knew Kyle's father, knew of his brother's disappearance, and so they knew Kyle, the man who had taken over his brother's job out of some mix of necessity and grief.
"Can I take a look?" he asked, pointing at her sketch book and stepping a little closer to peer over her shoulder. She was talented, that was for sure. Kyle's talents were more along the lines of being able to take down a deer with only a single arrow and not waste any of the meat or fur. "That's the beauty of the flower dance," he said. "You don't need to be a good dancer. It's just about the vibes. About having a good time. Sometimes about flirting."

















