>>6104160>>6104172Espurr is not pleased their reasonable request has been rejected. At the same time, they look back at Spike blankly and with the knowledge that they've won even as they've lost. You can thank them later, on account of them getting you the privilege of a private conversation with the most important guy in town. Espurr didn't see Spike or Cress try any such mindgame-tactics to get this sort of first class seating. This was ALL planned, down to every last detail. 100%. Good job, little cat.
It doesn't last very long, but it's a start. This is how one gets their foot in the door.
Espurr turns away and stares daggers through the nearest Hatterene. They do so without anger or sadness, or anything save for apathy, but instead as a reference to guide their pen. If they take their eyes off of the Hatterene for even a second, they'll lose the image they're conjuring up.
When they finally feel as though they can't look any more, they stop drawing and look down at what they've made. A crude, artsy interpretation of what they're looking for. A giant, curved figure with equal soft edges and sharp angles. A long tail drapes from its head and shapes into a claw held in front of the dark hole it bears as a face. Soothing waters pour from the center of the claw and between its curled fingers, down into a body of water below.
Even Espurr isn't sure what they're looking at, or if it even accurately reflects what the group is in search of, but it's the best they can do. They aren't an artist and they'll never understand art. They simply drew what they thought they felt. Perhaps it's a memory from a time they weren't well.
