Time of the season for creativity(Annette)

[Raven Negrohearté]

Raven slowly carved a face into the red muck. She continued to shape the arm that kept slipping off the torso. She made the neck thinner and used an extra piece of clay to make a curl of hair hanging off the head. Raven could not decide what would make it better so she began peeling the clay off the ugly crust mat. She looked at her clay attatched watch and saw that she had two minutes to spare before Annette was supposed to come, so she put her newest masterpiece into the kiln.

[Annette Brim]

Annette opened the door of the Art Room. There was a loud echoing creak of the hinges that made her cringe. She poked her head in and looked around. Suprising, in the last year and couple of monthes that she had been here, she had never gone to the Art Room. As she stepped into the room, she gased wonderously at the pictures on the walls. They were wonderful. Annette had always wanted to make a moving painting like the ones in the Grand Staircase, but she never knew how. Her eyes soon caught on her objective; Raven. She was at one of the table forming a wad of clay into some anonymous object.

Without a word Annette walked up to the table. She tried to stay quiet as she pulled up a stool, but the pegs of the stool squeaked at it slid across the wood floor. "Hey, Raven," Annette whispered as she watched her work.