As the smell filtered into the room Mati slowly became adjusted to it. She was not one to dabble in alternatives to fresh air and clean water. Haven had shown her what drinking could do to someone, and the hole that could be dug so deep it was almost impossible to climb out of. Her own mother had shown her the harm drugs could do, and the pain that could be brought upon those around her. Mati didn’t want to be part of that destruction. The pot she had smoke led to an experience that the Church woman had shut away in the back of her mind, and Mati didn’t think she would do that ever again. So the fumes might have played their game on her mind, but she ignored the potential and simply got used to the smell.
Working with the chalk on the wall so harshly led to her wearing it away, the woman threw the nub to the ground and took another from the package. Her eyes left the sketch for only a moment before her hand went to work. Mati never stayed too long at any one spot. For a minute she stepped towards the one side, sketching a general line for the horizon on the beach and transition that would come from the one picture to the other, then moved right back to the other side to work on the buildings. “I don’t know…” She trailed as she thought of all that he spoke, “Do you think that we will ever be like that? With cities and lights and weapons and wars?” It was a hard question to ask, heavy and serious. But of course they had their cities, the had their own lights and weapons and war. Nothing like the scale that the humans had owned, but still in their own way. Would it get the large and so out of their control that they would perish as the humans had?
Strel moved to her side, chalk in hand and the Dreamer watched him out of the corner of her eye. Not hoping to look over his shoulder or question his ability, Mati concentrated on her own lines, though she was eager to know what his mind was brewing on the wall. It wasn’t until he spoke up that she turned to face the things he had added. She smiled slightly, the grin cocked to the side and obviously unsure. “Maybe I could do that part.” She spoke as she looked at the bulbous shaped creatures with pointed horns. She stifled a giggle, knowing that Strel must have tried his hardest, and did not want to hurt his feelings. Each one was detailed with all their accessories, most that would not come out once the painting began.
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