Timestamp: Fall 23, 523 AV The day was young, and the sun's rays should have been strong, vibrant. But they were nothing more than a pale yellow streak of sadness drifting lazily in through the dusty window. Even so, they were enough for Maya to see by, to work by, and she had decided that she would work on her drawing skills before heading out into the world for another day of work as the good doctor's assistant. She had already made herself comfortable at the table, set her empty book, quill, and vial of ink before her. Now it was time to begin. But what would she draw? For a moment she thought, before settling on a flower. She had seen hundreds if not thousands of those during the course of her lifetime; she could not imagine they would be particularly difficult to draw. So, with that idea in mind, she opened her book to the first blank page, patted it down with her hand so it would not flip out of place, opened her vial of ink, reached for her quill, dipped it into the ink, brushed it off on the vial so it would not drip, and prepared herself to draw. Another moment, and she had pulled her quill over to her blank page and drawn a delicately curving line from the base of her page toward its center. She stopped when it was a touch above what would be the center of the page. A moment later, and she had drawn another, slightly sloppier line to the right of the first, that followed its trajectory. Together, they would form the stem of the flower, and make it appear as though it were growing out of the bottom of the page, as though the soil lay somewhere beneath it. When she had finished adding the stem, she paused to survey her work, and realized that it looked rather sparse. Stems tended to have leaves, for example, and a mixture of light and shadow upon their body, which lent them a degree of depth her drawing sorely lacked. She wasn't entirely sure how to add the depth she desired to the stem itself, and decided that she would experiment a little and see what happened. After all, how else could she learn? Thus, she began scratching a series of lines into the pair she had already produced. They were short and swift scratches of quill against paper, as though she were trying to cast shadows against the stem with her quill. When she had finished making these lines in what she felt to be the most important portions of her flower's stem, the top, the middle, and the bottom, she stopped to survey her work and realized she had made it appear as though she had begun to color her drawing in and had done a terrible job of it. Perhaps, because she had run out of ink or something, but whatever the case, it didn't look quite right. Frowning, she added another series of lines to the open areas she had left earlier, similar to the first series of smaller lines she had added to fill in the stem earlier. This time, when she pulled away, it looked a tad more natural to her, as though the stem had a bit of texture, but there was still something off about it she could not quite place. Unsure as to what to do about it at the moment, she decided to move on to the leaves and perhaps, had she the time, come back to the issue of the flower's stem a little later. When Maya considered which leaves to add to her flower, she realized that they came in all different sizes, shapes, and colors. The color wasn't really an issue here, since all she had was black ink, they were going to be black. But the size and shape mattered; they should be in line with the nature of the flower she was attempting to depict. Since the page was small, and she liked delicate things, she decided she would make the leaves smaller to mirror the flower's delicate nature. But that left shape and whether or not they would have teeth. She never liked teeth, and decided she wouldn't try to depict them here, and since it seemed simplest, she would aim for more of a teardrop shape. With these things in mind, she refreshed the ink on her quill and set to work. Word Count: 744 Words |