i know its rough, when you go it alone

KIADA i wish that i could say, i am a light that never goes out. “Thank you.” She says, an easy agreement to the attempts at using art to heal her pain, to give her the ability to focus on something else for awhile and perhaps long enough to get something she’s proud of, to keep. Maybe she could put down her memories of her family to keep them close, so she wouldn’t forget about them. It’s a thought she adds to her ever growing to-do list, while she considers the idea of using the paintings for a memorial of sorts. Her gaze finds him, the underlining of seriousness within the icy gaze she levels toward him – a lighter hue than her mother’s had been, but a similar sharpness, a similar calculation to them though not nearly as practiced. “You should give one to Deimos too… And Hotaru. I think they’d enjoy it a lot.” She offers, clutching her painting closer. If anything, a memory was kind enough, and for some of Rexanna’s oldest friends as well? Certainly. She peruses some of the remaining paintings, one that seems so much like her mother from the Basin, from when Kiada was naught but a small child. She steps toward it, hovering nearby it. “She looks like she did when I was little in this one.” She comments quietly – a sort of secretive flare to an otherwise almost perfectly trustworthy face, a skill her mother had excelled at. but i flicker from time to time.