dark thoughts and black ink.

Dorren was depressed. he always hated this time of year. he could never get himself to paint an Autumn landscape. he watched the leaves fall from the trees as he painted. he stopped and noticed that he didn't have anymore paint. he wanted to get this painting done, so it was out of his head, so he borrowed an inkwell from the room across from team obsidian's and used his tail and a pen together to finish the picture. once it was done he sat back, waiting for the ink to dry.
the more he looked at it the worse he felt. he diced ed that the ink had dried and put a cloth on top of it. things would just get worse if the others knew what he was thinking, but he felt that he had to do something. so he painted hoping that it would get the thought out of his head. but it seemed to make his mind tug at the idea even more. he laid down on his bed in the dark. a single candle burning on the desk next to his easel.

"What's up Doren?" asked Nyula who was sat in the corner, doodling on a page of her journal. She looked up as she spoke and glanced at the now covered painting.

"it's just this time of year again. i don't know why i hate fall so much." Dorren replied, examining his tail, the ink seemed to have stained the tip black. "hey, have you ever wondered what it would be like to live a normal life?" Dorren was trying to relive his worries without saying anything that would lead his teammate to suspicion.

"I quite like the Autumn...." replied Nyula, indicating the numerous different leaves she had drawn in her journal to indicate that it was now Fall.

"I've never really thought about it..."

"there was one thing. i don't remember who said this to me, but they said that 'fall is the time of year when everything dies, it is the most worthless season because the plants won't give up and wait until they are shrived and brown to stop growing. at least winter is peaceful' i don't know who said that to me, but it has haunted me for quite a while." Dorren said, trying to scrub the ink out of his tail with a cloth and some water left over from painting.

"That may be so, but if you look on the bright side. The death and withering of the leaves creates space for new leaves to grow. And the colours the leaves turn are beautiful, in my opinion, more so than just green leaves."
The Sneasel got to her feet. "Do you have a spare set of watercolours I can borrow?"

"no, i'm all out. that's why i used ink from the inkwell that i 'found' across the hall. i'll restock tomorrow. i don't feel like painting anything else." Dorren said. he got most of the black out and his natural color started to flow though, but it was a bit dark.

Nyula nodded, "I'll be back a bit later then."
She picked up her journal, slipping a small red feather in the page she had draw on, before shutting the book. The feather stuck out of the top, marking the page. The Sneasel left the journal on the desk in the room before disappearing out of the door.