[Memory] An Artist and A Musician

"I want to be an artist." She said as Ai was laying on the ground staring up at the damp ceiling. The words where an answer to a question the woman asked earlier. When we get out of here what will you do?
 
"Like a painter?" Her eyes shifted from the cracked rock to the grey - at some point surely white - curls of the girl sitting next to her.
 
"Yes! My mother is a painter, she took me with her to her clients houses often and let me paint with her. It was fun." In a place where they saw no future talking about the past was all they could really do. How long has it been since Ai was thrown in here? She didn't really know. There was no sunlight in this place so what could've felt like weeks might've been only a few days.
 
"I'm a musician." Ai offered. "Me and my friends have a little band, we play around Neverwinter." Eyes back to the ceiling, gaze past the rusty old metal bars that made up the cage around them.
 
"Oh I'm also from Neverwinter. We live north of the river." Live. Ai wondered if it was a good idea to keep talking in such present terms, as if they weren't in here. As if they were just chatting at a tavern somewhere. But that maybe if they didn't do this, they both would've broken down days ago. "I'll make sure to come to one of your performances once we get out of here."
 
"I'll get rich and commission you to paint me then." There was a short chuckle from the satyr, which died down quickly as the footsteps echoed down the tunnel and they rapidly scooted away from the each other to the opposite sides of their respective cells.