Maria was at the gynecologist and Corn had a couple of hours to himself. It has been some time since he connected with his hallow. The 'core' of the hallow, as he was calling it was frankly the wall in the built in opening where the cables and water pipes etc passed through. The one that the sun would hit. The magical place was emanating with magic that everyone could pick if he was close, but Corn's apartment was too high to be easily discerned and he has taken pains to conceal it from the outside, as much as he could without possessing skill in prime arcanum. The low glow of the mana as it run around the pipes and cables was not noticeable to sleepers. The slow drip of the moisture was feeding the mushrooms at the bottom of the closet. Tass in edible form.
But Corn wasn't interested in a quick pick of mana; he held enough at the time. It was calming for him to do an oblation in more ways than one; spiritually, mentally and emotionally.

He took out his 'tools' for the oblation of choice, that aligned with the industrious nature of his hallow: Plaster and some fresh paint. Wetting his hands, Corn empties his mind and reaches out with his soul towards the hallow. His hands rhythmically work the Plaster as he hums, at first just feeling the material give in and move around, familiarizing himself again with the texture, smell and feel of the matter. Simply letting himself go in the simple act in a way a little kid would find distraction and enjoyment. Perhaps his son would enjoy play-doh? Well, Etruscan plaster of a similar composition like the one found in their tombs was not play-doh. It wasn't that different though.
After a few minutes corn kneaded the plaster to make a nice, kinda flat surface of wet plaster. Then, with his hands still sticky from the plaster, he applied some paint on his fingers. He used the paint to make a crude funeral representation on the still wet plaster. It was no work of art, certainly. Nothing like the rites and art that have been passed to the traditions of the Etruscans by some Moros after the Fall. But it was enough.
Corn looked at the creation, smiled, and wetting his hands again gathered the plaster and repeated the process, again emptying his mind and letting his soul be infused and connect with the resonance of the hallow.
About an hour later, Corn, mentally refreshed and without having drawn mana from his hallow stood up and washed his hands over a ceramic plate. Gathering the water infused with the plaster and paint, he emptied it on the earth he has put at the bottom of the hallow.

It was time to leave and get his wife from the gynecologist.