After Virgil did his rounds, getting the smells of the "not so crazies" in his memory he sat down and started to draw. It was what Virgil did whenever he didn't have the damn blindfold, no one talked to him if he didn't have it on. Anyway, Virgil started drawing a tree but deciding that he didn't like it drew a different tree, one you would see in the swamps, then he started to draw the swamp. The murk, the moss, the fog. Nothing was forgotten. As Virgil gazed at the drawing he was stuck nostalgia and homesickness, wishing he was back at his swamp. He should have eaten those hikers when he had a chance. 

After breaking the spell Vigil started on the centerpiece of the picture, him. However it wasn't this body, it was the body he had been forced to stay out of. Big, strong, fast, dangerous. It had been so long since he had experienced the joy of living like that, life had been so simple. Wake up, eat, patrol territory, eat hunters looking for a dangerous croc....Heh. Lost as he was in his thoughts he didn't notice that he was done with the picture. As Virgil put his pencil down he sat back and admired his work. A large croc with human like features bursting from the swamp and heading towards the person looking at the picture, art. Well, not as artful as his cooking. The things he could do in a kitchen. Virgil sat back and daydreamed of jambalaya as his mouth watered.