Walking along, Alver continued walking through town. It was a bit of a walk since he lived near the forest and meadow. But walking was a normal thing he was used to, unlike cars. Silently listening to the distancing sirens, he continued walking and carrying his groceries. When reaching his home, he unlocked the door and went inside. The home showing no signs of anybody here, the pale tall man set to putting the groceries away.

Finishing up, he quickly made himself a bowl of cereal and ate it at the kitchen table in the dining room. Silently eating it by himself, the silence a familiar sound, unlike the ruckus that had occurred at the store. After he had finished, he stood up and set the bowl in the sink for later before going into his bedroom. Grabbing a blank canvas white painting and a easel, carrying thematic net his left arm while his left hand held a white box, the right picking up a black violin shaped case. 

Walking back outside, he locked the door before walking into the woods. He walked until he was at the meadow. And he set his things down, setting up the easel.

Pondering, he pondered on what he wished to do before that little girls battered body entered his mind. Huffing, he sat down on a stump, pulling up the white box and opening it. It revealed several brushes and paints. Grabbing a brush and a few painting materials, he started working on the empty canvas.