Max Caulfield, by the fireplace

[little_pieces_of_time]

It has been a whirlwind of a time, for Max. No dire pun intended. So when she finds the door open to the opportunity for a quiet moment, she takes it.

So there is a small photography student taking a break on the couch. She has her guitar with her, its edges chipped but decorated with a small grouping of butterfly stickers, and is finding her way through the notes of the song she has stuck in her head. She may be quietly humming the vocal line in counterpoint to the guitar.

Comments

[little_pieces_of_time]

It's not a satisfying song, she would agree, but it reflects her inner dissatisfaction. Her friend is hurting, and she isn't sure she can help in a way that makes any difference.

Max isn't great at initiating conversations, but she is trying to get better at it. She gives a faint smile at the - very obviously - elf, and asks, "Can I ask what you're making?"

What does one do with feathers, beyond stuff pillows? Make quills for writing?