"Nice, nice... Painter, huh? My sister used to be one. Used to be really good at it..." Khorvis murmurs. An series of rather well drawn images flashes through Phorsaal's mind, a horse running through a sunset, a woman's crying face, a creepy mask, landscapes, and a few posters. "She tried to teach me how to do it, but... I never really got the hang of that artistic thingy..." He murmurs with a chuckle. "I can do abstracts, but that's it. I could never hold something in my mind long enough to draw it properly. Landscapes would keep changing, faces would keep moving and changing, animals would constantly run around the forest... In the end, I just gave up and started writing. Another form of art, anyway." He murmurs.