She stroked the beast’s nose softly. It did not move, but only gazed back at her. She saw it, she saw him in there looking back at her. She panicked.
“Lakis, how?” she exclaimed.
The beast let out a loud growl and motioned to the painting once again. Apparently, Lakis didn’t want to talk. She rolled her eyes.
“Fine,” she consented turning back towards the painting, “but after I look at this painting you’re explaining this.”
She reached out to touch the painting, and as she tried to touch it she realized her hand started to sink into it. Like it was some sort of liquid or quick sand melting to her touch. She tried to free herself from the wall, but it was as if the wall was consuming her hand and she could not get it freed. She began struggling to pull her arm free, as it quickly took more and more of her arm.