The artist huffed a softly amused breath and shook her head very slightly.

"Devi," she clarified, leaving out the confusing sounds that held no meaning to the creature in front of her, tapping her chest again gently. Crafted, matching purple eyebrows lifted with the light of an idea and the backpack was swung in front of her chest so she could hastily go through it. The best part about being an artist was the proclivity to having paper and pen.

A wore, mostly filled pocket sized sketchbook was pulled out, as well as a pen and Devi opened up the back end to a blank page. Scribbling her name in pretty curved print, she turned the sketchbook towards her. Maybe letters and pictures would help facilitate this.