Arthur was always a drawer. He kept his little journal full of his thoughts and scribbles. He was sitting at the base of a tree one day pencil and journal in hand propped up on one knee. Recently you got your own journal to draw the same as him. She sat down on another tree opposite from him. His journal was simple leather while yours had a nice moon on the front. After a few moments of silent drawing, you noticed him looking up at you occasionally and back at the paper, his pencil moving.