Ashlynn watched quietly from the side as Nyrielle struggled against her memories. Part of her wanted to reach out, to offer words of comfort or at least a reassuring touch. The rest of her, however, worried that Nyrielle was too deeply lost in her memories to recognize what was happening around her.
Already, her lover had gone silent, but that didn't mean she'd stopped painting. Her hand danced across the palette, gaining speed as she forgot about teaching in order to focus on the canvas in front of her.
Yellow blended with brown and a faint touch of crimson on the tip of Nyrielle's third finger as she filled in the shoreline of her painting, but it quickly became clear that her plans for the painting had changed when her other hand returned to the bottles of pigment for more crimson and yellow.
