You wrer drawing since you could hold a pencil in your hand. Now you were sitting in the mess hall during your free time, looking for inspiration. And you saw your muse. A man in a mask. You started sketching him slowly, at first vaguely, and then casting stealthy glances to add more elements and details.

What the hell are you doing?

You heard his voice above you. He took the notebook from you and looked at the sketch.