The cold air that constantly swelled back and forth cut through Talon's face like daggers as he sat on a bench next to the bridge that led to the outer grounds. Life was in monotone for him, the days seemly just flowing by, day to day, night to night, headache to headache. That's all that was left for him at this point, there wasn't a way to figure himself out since all his friends were gone. Caiden suddenly stopped showing up to classes altogether and Damitrius wouldn't speak with him since the train ride back to Hogwarts for the following year. It made sense, although it tore him apart inside, seeing as how Sapphire was dead. He was past mourning Sapphire's death, the time had allowed him to see that death was just a doorway to something else, and that wherever Sapphire and his grandfather was, they would be better off. He didn't really believe it to this day, but it gave him the false illusion of hope. What he was truly worried about was Damitrius herself...he knew she wasn't taking her death as easily as him. Christ, at this point, he wasn't even sure she was still mourning Sapphire, it had been months since they last talked. Just the slightest reminder brought him back to that day in the cabin. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment, closing the artist's book he had brought with him to a close.
He had taken up art since their deaths, a suggestion from the nurse who noticed his depression. Strangely, he had never liked art nor was he good at it, but it felt calming to just sit in thoughts while scribbling a couple of bad pictures of himself, friends, and other things he saw. It was like a journal but more...inventive. The air continued it's assault on Talon who refused to open his eyes at that time, the days seemingly just stopping for him. It felt good to be alone at the moment, yet he knew he would have to get himself out of it. He would need to find a new friend or two, possibly some people he had never associated with before. The thought scared him, yet it was the only chance he had of regaining his sanity. Yet like all other times when he thought of his plan, he only returned back to his drawings, flipping the pages idly as he quickly scanned the looming photos of squiggly lines and otherwise bad shading. He stopped at the first page though, the first serious drawing he had ever drew. It was him, Caiden, and Damitrius, his friends he had stuck with since first year. He smiled naturally to himself, mainly because if they ever saw the picture, they would be insulted. Everything there looked bad, but it got the point across. The date was labeled two months ago, so it was a good start at least.
Flipping back to his latest entry, he looked back down on the template he had started off on. It was a picture of a troll, looking grotesque as ever, wielding a large splintered club with many chippings beginning to peel. It was Talon's best work so far, but mainly it was in the club because there were a ton of details he had decided to add in. If he could've he would've taken a magnyfying glass to make sure every detail was correct, but he didn't want to be like that. Worrying more about his art than what it stood for. The cold air flew by his face again, this time his large tuft of hair flowing along with it, his bangs getting in his eyes. He sighed with annoyance and pushed back the bangs that bothered him. Another gust and the same effect happening once more. He swore out loud, not realizing the strength of his own voice and quickly pocketed his pencil (which he kept out of sights of the teachers) and placed his sketchpad under the crook of his arm, walking away from the direction of the wind towards something more sturdy. He didn't feel like going inside, because there would be people there. And right now, he just felt like being alone in his thoughts and his expressions.
After a slight jog for about two minutes, he came across the outer courtyard, near the main entrance doors, a slight smile spreading on his face. Sure, there were people there who liked to hang out in the cold, but Talon knew Hogwarts would protect him from the wind. Sorta a win-lose situation, but I digress. Using his arm to throw off a large patch of snow off one of the benches, Talon carefully took his seat and continued with his solitary portrait, his mind excluding the rest of the world from his.