ilrine tapped the side of his brush on the jar, wiping the bristles on a sheet of cotton to get off the extra paint. two of his fingertips were bandaged after a mishap with his dagger, since he'd needed to cut something out of a canvas. his hair glowed, illuminated by the orange sunset lighting. his back tattoo was partially visible under his t-shirt. the cross around his neck caught the light, glinting. he wore it because his mother had given it to him when he was a baby. he reached to dab the brush into the slate blue paint, sighing softly. he'd been painting since dawn. he practically lived up in the attic at this point.