the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun
"...Perhaps I have?" Amhran seems genuinely puzzled; the majority of time he spends with Evie is (understandably, perhaps) in the greenhouse, both personal and communal, and he makes a mental note to either ask her about it or to go seeking out some of her work. "Well, I hope she likes what we make in that case." Grinning to Erebos, his little feet prints and the way he dangles unceremoniously from his father's arm, Amhran finishes the branches of his tree and washes off his brush to ensure the paint doesn't stiffen the bristles.
To hear that all of them are turning a year older this season has the raeling's eyes widening in both surprise and pleasure, and he turns his attention to a brighter green, carefully dipping a finger into it. "If we are celebrating does that mean there will be a party?" he asks; not because he's particularly fond of them or otherwise, only that it seems to be a common occurrence when there is something to celebrate.
With his eyebrows pinching together in concentration, he reaches forward to start pressing his fingertips to the branches of the tree he's painted, using the prints to create 'leaves'. There is plenty of space for Deimos and Erebos to add their own fingerprints too, if they'd like.
To hear that all of them are turning a year older this season has the raeling's eyes widening in both surprise and pleasure, and he turns his attention to a brighter green, carefully dipping a finger into it. "If we are celebrating does that mean there will be a party?" he asks; not because he's particularly fond of them or otherwise, only that it seems to be a common occurrence when there is something to celebrate.
With his eyebrows pinching together in concentration, he reaches forward to start pressing his fingertips to the branches of the tree he's painted, using the prints to create 'leaves'. There is plenty of space for Deimos and Erebos to add their own fingerprints too, if they'd like.
