Art class heads for the forest's edge. A bonfire, marshmallows, hot buttered rum waiting. Dusk is settling, Ben and Lydia stare at their professor's assignment with completely different visions. "I’m going for realism," Ben declares, squinting into the trees. "I’ll capture every branch, leaf, and” .. “Oh, please!” Lydia rolls her eyes, dipping her brush in hot rum instead of the paint water. “Realism is dead. Abstract is the soul of this forest.” Ben snorts. “What soul? I see sticks and dirt!” Waving her paintbrush wildly, Lydia points out “There! You can see a very small patch of dark blue, framed by a little branch, pinned up by a naughty star!” “Lydia, you’re delusional!” With a grin on her face, she steals his toasted marshmallow. “Perhaps, but I’m inspired!” Ben just mutters something about “needing more rum” to survive art class in the forest.