Poor Shawchert. Victim of her OCD as well as her restless hands. xDD
Sky didn't think he'd be able to make her blush that soon into their meeting, but sure enough, his stubborn reply did such a thing, only making it worse with his compliment on her paintings. She stood in the doorframe leading to the living room and suddenly it seemed as if her feet were very interesting. She twisted her toes a bit and smiled. "Thanks... It's more a hobby really, the painting I mean." Poor girl managed to snap herself out of it with her own words, and over to went to the couch, only to pause again.
"Oh, I was thinking a high-mouth fireplace. There's enough bricks gathered up in the den for it, and the chimney still works fine." She shrugged, then turned away, seeming to find interest in yet another fetching chore. She didn't go far, just upstairs and back quickly, a nice brush in hand upon her return. "Hm, you don't look very leader-like with your fur all stuck up like that, Shaw." Mock scolding was given before she slipped behind the gap in the couch, that rare bold side of her coming out.
Unless he pulled away or protested, girl would casually run the brush through his hair, voice softening with her little task at hand. "I'm good with building stuff, but I'm not so great with getting a job done. I've built my fair share of dens and walls before, though temporary, while living outside of Cercatori D'Arte." Careful of his ears, she gently brushed away a stubborn strand. "If you hadn't guessed by now, I tend to be a bit of a perfectionist." She chuckled at herself, having been told to loosen up many times by Dusk in the past. "I've got a rough idea in my head on how it should look. The problem is getting it out into the real world without completely redoing it a thousand times."
That part of her O.C.D. issue was clear; on the wall, smears would occasionally be noticable from where she'd wash the paint away after the slightest mistake. Something as simple as a quivery line or an off-key note at times ruined her greatest moods. One of the reasons she'd studied more into singing than drawing or building things was because her voice was something everyone praised, no matter how horrible she thought she sounded. Every compliment was taken in modest stride; another reason she'd come to like Shawchert so much. He'd been the kindest person she'd met when it came to flattery and honest compliments for her skills.
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