ORIGIN - Old Places, Friendly Faces

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"Ehhh, well. I had chalks. They glowed," he explained; "They were magic, I think. Really cool shit. But paint, pigment--I can tell you a little about it but I don't know a whole lot."

Imp rocked back a bit, considering. His mind swam back through memories of colors, the vibrant hues that he'd so adored and could no longer see. "Okay, so the first thing you need is something to crush stuff with. Like rocks. Then you can crush stuff with water to make colors. To make red..."

Berries. Red gemstones. Red feathers. He'd go through each color, list off things he could think of that could grind up into paint. He wasn't as experienced as others, but he knew the very basics--it'd take awhile to go through, but... Imp would enjoy it, even as the memories left him somewhat wistful.

exit Imp
@Fahl

Turmoil might have had Fahl in its grip now, but nothing could be done at the moment, at least not while there were lessons to learn from. The iguana swallowed the building lump in his throat and buried his worries beneath layers of information about the color red. He kept his gaze on Imp, sitting posture more relaxed than he felt.

His teacher wished to share these important details with him. The best courtesy he could give was actually listening and committing them to memory. From plants to feathers and minerals, everything revealed to him he acknowledged with an unseen nod. When confusion arose, no hesitation prevented him from asking for clarification. Otherwise, silence reigned as he allowed the wonders of art to take center stage.

-Exit Fahl

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