ooc: In Etheral Eclipse, it's very early in the morning; the moon is still out
Edgar sat on a fallen log as he began to draw the beautiful face of his mother. Her eyes, shaped similar to a cat's, weren't copper like his. Her right eye was a striking silver and her left had been a bright blue; the kind of blue you'd see up in the sky on a sunny day. The woman had waist-length, wavy red hair that was parted to the right. She often wore a light-purple dress with a white apron that would carry flowers and many other things. Edgar's mother had been also very talented, she could play the fiddle beautifully. Although he couldn't hear it, Edgar loved to watch her because it would send calm vibrations throughout a room and because it was interesting to watch her long, slender hands move about so skillfully and quickly. The picture of her that he was drawing was her playing her fiddle in the upstairs room of the barn with the sun just coming up. The artist had wished he could add colors to it, the colored pencils he had now were all worn down and his paints were all old and dried up. He planned on trading some of his artwork for more art supplies, but the boy wasn't sure of where he should go to do something like that. Suddenly, a new scent came up in the air. Someone was approaching him.
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