Robin looks up from where she's curled into a corner of the couch to see the girl she'd tried to talk with before staring at the painting behind her. She looked so enthralled that Robin couldn't help but crane her neck to look back. "Pretty isn't it..." she says taking a quiet sip of her shake. The painting is so real you could almost swear that flurries of snow flakes were moving in a wind. The surface seems to shimmer the longer they both look but no one else besides Robin and the two people who followed her down notices.