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[iustus_rex]

Edmund's notebook is open, showing a half-made list in the tidy, cramped handwriting of someone who endured any number of penmanship lessons. Every so often he adds another item: Pastels (messy) or Group mural? (ask Tom or Door) or Fingerpainting (messier, but good when they're excited)Mostly, though, he's neglecting this list in favor of

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[takiena_called]

Finn's watching curiously from a table near by. Edmund's the second person he's seen sketching here. He doesn't exactly mean to stare, but from what he can see of the drawing it look interesting.

[takiena_called]

"Oh," Finn says, softly. "He sounds wonderful."

[iustus_rex]

"He is."

And Edmund means that utterly.

With a faint smile -- and if it's wistful, that's subtle -- he adds, "He comes here sometimes, you know. Not often, but keep an eye open."

"You might see him, if he wants you to."

[takiena_called]

"I will keep a look out," Finn promises, "though I don't what lions look like, except that they're big."

[iustus_rex]

"Oh." Edmund blinks, with a quick sheepish grin after. "They're -- oh, here."

He flips to a new page in his sketchbook, and starts to draw. A lion's (Lion's) shape is an old and familiar one to his fingers, remembered dearly and drawn often from every angle, and this one takes form quickly on the paper.

[takiena_called]

Finn watches, carefully, as Edmund draws. He doesn't know much about lions, except that they're big and dangerous, and live in the mountains of Eridu. He's heard that they're a sort of cat, but any resemblance to the cats in Paras Derval is fleeting.

[iustus_rex]

Edmund finishes the rough sketch, caps his pen, and tears out the page. Leaning forward, he holds it out to Finn.

The lion is pacing with slow dignity, his head turned slightly towards the viewer to show large solemn eyes with a steady gaze. There's plenty of room left on the paper, front and back, if Finn chooses to sketch in the corners later.

[takiena_called]

Finn takes the paper carefully (with a quiet "thank you"), and studies the lion on the page. When he looks back up, there's clear admiration in his eyes.

"He's very..." Finn trails off, trying to think of a suitable word, before shrugging with a smile.

[iustus_rex]

"Doesn't really do him justice," Edmund says, with a lopsided smile.

It's not false modesty. It's just fact.

"He is, though."