He tried! He really did. And sometimes, just sometimes? He got it right.
Fortunately for him, this was one of those times!
Relieved, he moved his wings a bit, unfolding them a few feet, to give the feathers a little floofing shiver, to re-settle them. He folded them back up behind him again as he adjusted how he sat there on the back of the bench, turning the book back to the angle he wanted it at on his knee.
Sketch, sketch, sketch... The pencil moved quickly, a whole lot of light little strokes at first, its lead making some very light little sounds against the paper as it did. Avitus kept glancing back and forth, between Anant and the paper, checking to make sure he was getting right whatever it was he was working on. The curve of the mask, the way the locks of Anant's somewhat wild hair stuck up around it, fluffed a bit by the recent bouncing. Their shoulders' curve, the collar of the sweater, the coat that wasn't quite being worn....
Sketch sketch sketch... And the darker shading, leading up to the edges, too. He reached into the folds of his robe, there on his lap, where his little roll of paper for smudging had caught, and took to using that, blending and smearing the graphite across the off-white page, softening it, bringing it a better sense of depth. More sketching, to renew the texture in the hair and add more details... more smudging, and sketching again, working quickly. By the time he was done, just a few minutes after having begun, it was unmistakably Anant's image on the page, eyes somewhat visible in what was likely a smile, through the mask's eye-holes.
"...there."
He leaned closer to the book, to peek into the binding as he carefully pulled on the page. With a few faint ripping sounds, the strings were pulled through their holes, leaving just a couple little trails through the edge of the page, at its fold. He turned it over and held it up.
Thanks. And you're making my stomach hurt from laughing so much already. XD ILU! ♥
Fortunately for him, this was one of those times!
Relieved, he moved his wings a bit, unfolding them a few feet, to give the feathers a little floofing shiver, to re-settle them. He folded them back up behind him again as he adjusted how he sat there on the back of the bench, turning the book back to the angle he wanted it at on his knee.
Sketch, sketch, sketch... The pencil moved quickly, a whole lot of light little strokes at first, its lead making some very light little sounds against the paper as it did. Avitus kept glancing back and forth, between Anant and the paper, checking to make sure he was getting right whatever it was he was working on. The curve of the mask, the way the locks of Anant's somewhat wild hair stuck up around it, fluffed a bit by the recent bouncing. Their shoulders' curve, the collar of the sweater, the coat that wasn't quite being worn....
Sketch sketch sketch... And the darker shading, leading up to the edges, too. He reached into the folds of his robe, there on his lap, where his little roll of paper for smudging had caught, and took to using that, blending and smearing the graphite across the off-white page, softening it, bringing it a better sense of depth. More sketching, to renew the texture in the hair and add more details... more smudging, and sketching again, working quickly. By the time he was done, just a few minutes after having begun, it was unmistakably Anant's image on the page, eyes somewhat visible in what was likely a smile, through the mask's eye-holes.
"...there."
He leaned closer to the book, to peek into the binding as he carefully pulled on the page. With a few faint ripping sounds, the strings were pulled through their holes, leaving just a couple little trails through the edge of the page, at its fold. He turned it over and held it up.
"What do you think?"