She sits quietly, her candy-red ribbon body coiled into a relaxed spiral as she leans over a sketchpad. Using a thin ribbon extended from her arm, she carefully sketches with a pencil she scavenged earlier. Her Comedy Mask is in place, but even through the cheerful expression etched onto it, her movements seem slow and deliberate, as if lost in thought.
“…I wonder if they’d even like this if they saw it,” she murmurs, her voice carrying a faint waver of doubt despite the smile her mask projects. a rough sketch of the Circus’s whimsical scenery, infused with a melancholic touch that mirrors her hidden emotions.
Every so often, she glances around nervously, her ribbon limbs twitching slightly. She’s hiding—not from fear of harm but from the exhausting unpredictability of the others (especially Jax). This moment, this tiny slice of solitude, is her escape within the inescapable.
