It’s been days, and she’s not drawn a thing.
Nothing.
Not one single drawing.
Any other time when she wouldn’t want to draw, she’d be filling notebooks, but now that she’s desperate to? Radio silence from her powers.
At the moment, she’s too tired to even cry, so she sits in a random empty room of the Selvaggio estate and hangs her head, pencil hovering over a depressingly blank page in her sketch book.












