She'd made a great quantity of a nice strong purple-red and started by painting a circle around him set well back at around the same distance she'd kept when she'd walked around him. Then, another circle a little farther in, and the space between had been decorated with meaningless lines and shapes. Sometimes Janine held her brush in her beak, sometimes in her large, rough wing-hands.
After that had come lines and shapes and instead of circles great triangles and rectangles, sharp-edged jagged things as the whim and the itch took her, drawing closer and closer. It's monochrome art, rough and primitive against the flagstones, but not without appeal. She left herself paths towards the center to walk on, clear places like the spokes of a wheel.
Honestly she's surprised when, pushing a line towards him at the tip of her beak, he finally notices. For a moment she freezes, head down, and just blinks her milky horizontal eyelids. Then she draws her great head up and throws the brush out to the side with a flick. Her 'voice' is young - she's barely a teenager - and entirely too casual for someone who's been caught scrawling giant designs around someone.]
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After that had come lines and shapes and instead of circles great triangles and rectangles, sharp-edged jagged things as the whim and the itch took her, drawing closer and closer. It's monochrome art, rough and primitive against the flagstones, but not without appeal. She left herself paths towards the center to walk on, clear places like the spokes of a wheel.
Honestly she's surprised when, pushing a line towards him at the tip of her beak, he finally notices. For a moment she freezes, head down, and just blinks her milky horizontal eyelids. Then she draws her great head up and throws the brush out to the side with a flick. Her 'voice' is young - she's barely a teenager - and entirely too casual for someone who's been caught scrawling giant designs around someone.]
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