It was rare for Miss Gilbert to supply Scarlett with paints and canvases (unless it was requested or bought for her by either a master or mistress) or during events such as these. Carnivals were a time of fun -- and while her bands still restrained her, not allowing her from straying too far from her post, it still let her see the world outside. But she couldn’t help letting out a sigh, couldn’t help thinking to a time before her confinement. When, instead of stuck only in one section, dressed and pampered by personal stylists to attract potential customers, she could be roaming both sections of the carnival with her beloved daughter.
But, attempting to find the sliver of silver lining, at least Miss Gilbert allowed her to paint. Portraits and Sketches -- her own-make-shift personal booth that she saw to with a few others. Though with another manning the booth itself, Scarlett strayed from her seat by the canvas to watch the bustle of guests -- families laughing, children dancing, and everyone getting five minutes of fame at the karaoke stage. It was then she caught you lingering from the corner of her eyes, perhaps staring. “Oh -- sorry. I didn’t see you there, were you here for a self-portrait?” she queried.