He looks back to the paints, almost having forgotten they were there and where all he is. He'd come to paint. To get expression up and on what all is being with the wicked pictures.

He's quiet, face carefully blank, until, "I HAVE TO CLEAN IT ON UP AFTER," He says, in a way what tells he's only just realised his own problem. "I can't just let it be as for the other Avoxes to do it. I GOT TO." The other Avoxes. As if he still is one.

"But," He continues. "THINK AT I'D LIKE THAT. Us brothers up with painting pious." He nods.