A gust of wind stirred up some debris in the alley and an old newspaper flew over the street. This was definitely not the part of town for a good gi...rl. But then again, she had never claimed to be good. She was only a couple of stops from the glittering skysc****rs of downtown, and the famous festivals, but she might as well been in another continent all together. Run-down houses, boarded windows, worn out old wrecks of cars and neon glow of cheap bars and strip clubs, the difference to the. When the woman was finished, Carladded information about the neighbor that he shouldn't have known. Whilethis was going on Mama squatted down deeply and not only emptied whatremained in her bladder, but pushed out several turds onto the sidewalk.Carl excused himself to pick them up with the pooper-scooper he hadreflexively grabbed as he left the house. After Mama was done, she satpatiently on her haunches like the well-trained dog everyone perceivedher to be. A few minutes later, Carl. I’ll take my turn later.”Aedan nodded, and Alistair left without a glance in my direction. I slumped, forlorn, until Aedan shifted his grip to my hand and squeezed. “Come on, sis. Distraction is good for what ails you.”I can’t say that spending an hour trying to convince a weak, surly dwarf that we not only knew each other but were actually friends was the worst thing I’ve done, but it wasn’t fun for either me or Aedan. Faren remained entirely skeptical of everything we said; knowing a few. .. I haven’t truly painted in so long. Not with a real brush.” My tongue moistened my lips as I thought, the exhaustion spilling off mind, letting me think. “Illusions aren’t the same. They’re...” I searched for the right word. “They’re too real. Does that makes sense?”Ealaín nodded, her pure-white hair sliding about her ebony features. “They lack any style.”“Yes!” I said, enthusiasm rising me. “There’s no subjectivity. I can’t paint my expression in them. Not when I have to mimic the real.