Her lips tugged into a hesitant smile. She knew it wasn't good. Dalgina needed lots of practice before she was anywhere near his level. It was tragic, really. The young female wanted to create so badly, but the art fell short. Having him compliment it felt nice, knowing that he could recognize the level of ability. He hadn't considered his own work good, how could he possibly think that hers was? Her tail still swayed behind her, if reluctant to believe.
She watched happily as he drew over a wrinkled piece of paper. It seemed so worn, as if it had waited a long time to hold something on it. Now it did. Her mouth opened in a small oh, admiring the swirling symbol that came out. Nodding her head she grasped the pen eagerly. Her favorite flower. It was a tough choice. At last she settled on the tiny flowers that laid their heads down, always seeming so bright and restful. The arch of the blue bells was difficult, her mind doing her best to pretend it was a feather, and her strokes were allowing her to soar through the air.
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