Jacara returned to his room slamming the door behind him. He grabbed an easel from the corner of his room, placing an empty white canvas onto it, and grabbed a filled palette.

He sat in front of the empty canvas, illuminated by a lantern attached to the ceiling, holding a small fan brush. He was frozen, staring at the blank canvas.

A few solid knocks on his wooden door, caught his attention. “Go away Father.” Jacara said furrowing his brow at the empty canvas.

“Have you ever known your father to knock?” Urkse said through the door. Jacara chuckled shaking his head. “Come on in Uncle.”

Urkse entered in holding a jug of mead wearing a open cotton t-shirt and loose baggy silk pants. He took a seat on Jacara’s bed, inspecting the canvas.

“Haven’t seen you use one of those in a while.” Urkse said taking a sip from the jug.

“I thought you gave up, trying to draw the last two cards.” Jacara glumly nodded and lowered the palette and brush down.

“I did, but I wanted to try again.” He said with