[it's a terrible time of year to hope for good natural light--or it would be in the Six Duchies, where Fitz demonstrably isn't anymore, so what does he know? and so he sits where he is instructed within the little living room of his cottage and obediently turns his chin this way or that way until Huaisang finds his pose pleasing. and then, well. then he must simply be still, and watch Huaisang as he arranges his supplies and then settles in to work.
he does quite a bit of watching, dark eyes all softness--consider the screeds of introspective navel-gazing his mind must be subjecting himself to--and whatever he's mulling over must be something.. nice. he drops his eyes down to the floor, then over to where Nighteyes has sprawled himself in a patch of diffuse sunlight through the window. the wolf snores very softly in his dreamless (for now) sleep. Fitz clears his throat and tries to fill the silence with words--to distract himself while he gathers his courage.]
Did you paint portraits often? In your world, I mean.
gay art time 🎨
he does quite a bit of watching, dark eyes all softness--consider the screeds of introspective navel-gazing his mind must be subjecting himself to--and whatever he's mulling over must be something.. nice. he drops his eyes down to the floor, then over to where Nighteyes has sprawled himself in a patch of diffuse sunlight through the window. the wolf snores very softly in his dreamless (for now) sleep. Fitz clears his throat and tries to fill the silence with words--to distract himself while he gathers his courage.]
Did you paint portraits often? In your world, I mean.