32nd of Fall, 512 A.V.
Docks
Afternoon
It was once again that time of day. The time of day where you'd see a young man walking through the alleyways and streets, just like any other day. Gale was once again passing the docks, his old sketchbook and charcoal in hand, He would have to get more charcoal soon, running low on the dark gray residue. He only had one picture left and needed to draw some more if he wanted to make any mizas this season. What better place to do that then the bay? It always gave him some sort of idea. The murderer sat himself down in the sand, crossing his legs and placing the book and charcoal in his lap. He leaned back on his palms, looking at the water in front of him stretch across the sand and try and reach him, being only few feet ahead. He bit the inside of his cheek in thought, watching the water retreat then swing back onto the shore.
It never took Gale long to think of something to draw, which is why when he watched the sand being pulled into the ocean, it only took him a few chimes to get an idea. He sat up and flipped his book open to the next blank page, just after the unfinished portrait of a female that he attempted to make like his wife. Gale's hair hung in his face before he pulled it behind his ear, his itchy shirt (formerly a dress) waving like a flag in the breeze. He started with making a wavy, faint line to be the ocean border, it stretching from one corner to the opposite one. The paper now being divided into two, Gale was having the left be ocean and the right the sand. Just inside the left portion of the page, he started with a simple, faint circle, which was going to be a shell later.
Gale was hunched over his work like he was trying to prevent anyone from seeing it, though that wasn't exactly the case. His black shirt was ripped on the bottom and sleeves from being modified from a dress to a shirt and his brown pants had several holes in them. He looked like he could use some sleep and had an interesting expression of contemplation and puzzlement, which he had worn for almost the entire season so far. This expression seemed to show more, however, when concentrated on his work.
Gale had tuned most of things out of his mind, trying to only think about the picture and how it'll look. His eyes locked onto the paper, not looking around at the other people or any boat there. The sounds of people chatting and people walking around was just a mere muffle of sound, hidden under the sound of the ocean and his breathing. He was fully concentrated in his work when this happens and usually isn't disturbed when drawing. Usually...
Docks
Afternoon
It was once again that time of day. The time of day where you'd see a young man walking through the alleyways and streets, just like any other day. Gale was once again passing the docks, his old sketchbook and charcoal in hand, He would have to get more charcoal soon, running low on the dark gray residue. He only had one picture left and needed to draw some more if he wanted to make any mizas this season. What better place to do that then the bay? It always gave him some sort of idea. The murderer sat himself down in the sand, crossing his legs and placing the book and charcoal in his lap. He leaned back on his palms, looking at the water in front of him stretch across the sand and try and reach him, being only few feet ahead. He bit the inside of his cheek in thought, watching the water retreat then swing back onto the shore.
It never took Gale long to think of something to draw, which is why when he watched the sand being pulled into the ocean, it only took him a few chimes to get an idea. He sat up and flipped his book open to the next blank page, just after the unfinished portrait of a female that he attempted to make like his wife. Gale's hair hung in his face before he pulled it behind his ear, his itchy shirt (formerly a dress) waving like a flag in the breeze. He started with making a wavy, faint line to be the ocean border, it stretching from one corner to the opposite one. The paper now being divided into two, Gale was having the left be ocean and the right the sand. Just inside the left portion of the page, he started with a simple, faint circle, which was going to be a shell later.
Gale was hunched over his work like he was trying to prevent anyone from seeing it, though that wasn't exactly the case. His black shirt was ripped on the bottom and sleeves from being modified from a dress to a shirt and his brown pants had several holes in them. He looked like he could use some sleep and had an interesting expression of contemplation and puzzlement, which he had worn for almost the entire season so far. This expression seemed to show more, however, when concentrated on his work.
Gale had tuned most of things out of his mind, trying to only think about the picture and how it'll look. His eyes locked onto the paper, not looking around at the other people or any boat there. The sounds of people chatting and people walking around was just a mere muffle of sound, hidden under the sound of the ocean and his breathing. He was fully concentrated in his work when this happens and usually isn't disturbed when drawing. Usually...
I hope this is okay! 
