The fact that Iris could speak anything was actually a blessing, and she knew she spoke broken and disjointed, but it was who she was and she didn't care. Iris looked at the sketches, and while she was without a doubt nothing close to an art critic, she recognized sketches that were good. It actually looked like a person, and Iris could imagine herself in that sketch. She looked at Alice with a raised eyebrow, pushing the sketch back towards her a bit. "Why you lie? Art is good. Lies are for weak pathetic peoples, you not weak."