Martha takes the brush from his hand, and she does her best to make the branches more than just straight lines on the tree. There are bends, knocks, and twists. She looks at her piece of art, and she turns around to look at Hunter.

"...Sure." The leaves of the tree were a soft greenish yellow, and while the rose petals didn't exactly match, Martha knew that not all things have to be perfect. "I take you don't happen to have any glue lying around here."