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Paint me like one of your Sith girls
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A note died on Nate's lips and she spun around, inadvertantly splattering the floor with red paint, something she didn't appear to even notice. She cocked her head to one side to regard the girl that had entered the art room quizzically. The girl was vaguely familiar to Natalie, probably shared a class with her. Kind've pretty, nice hair. Nate blinked at her a couple of times before she processed that the girl was actually talking to her. She tended to be like this when somebody snapped her out of a reverie. A little startled, a little oblivious.


Oh. Oh right. Food. That.

Natalie opted to shrug. She cared more about the fact that somebody had heard her singing than that she was missing lunch. Not in a worried way, more just that she was wondering if the other girl had thought she was good. Eh. She'd say if she had anything in particular to comment.

Nate didn't tend to speak much. Sing? Sure. Speak? It wasn't as common. Her voice was as dreamy and laconic as her expressions tended to be. "Was painting," she said simply, jerking her head towards the canvas, covered in smudges which might have been a boat. Natalie shrugged again. "I don't eat much."


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