The returning squeeze of his hand was surprising, honestly. Ash hadn't been expecting it - at least from Kjell. Maybe from anyone else. But the more they had this time, depressing as it was, the more he was learning. A soft single breath of a laugh escaped him at the Nosferatu's confession and Ash shook his head slightly, "Knowledge of art is unimportant in the grand scheme. All that really matters is allowing yourself to be open to feeling. Anyone who says otherwise is a pompous windbag."
As they came close enough, Ash tried in vain to piece together the portrait before them, folding back pieces of canvas to find the face. The figure was a Nosferatu woman in quite the fine gown. It was one of his first meetings with the clan and it stung to see her in such a state. "She claimed to be Anna Maria Schwägelin," he noted with a hint of amusement, "I suspect the woman who died in prison some years later would have something to say about that particular claim."
He paused for a moment, shaking his head slightly, "Where would you like to begin?"