She gets on the stool herself. No one asks her to and no one helps, and the stool is cold and she sits on it like it is a courtroom.

MalfoidGet on with it. I am not going to sit here for nine hours being brave and I would like to find out how long I last.

The brushes do not move. Nothing in the room moves. The canvas simply stops being blank, in stages, from the edges inwards.

It paints her hands first. Both of them, on her thighs, and it paints them accurately, and then it paints what they are doing.