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Dean Thomas (artistdean) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

"That'd be good. I mean, sure there are days in a row that feel okay now, but this time of year? Still pretty shit." He picked at his shirt with one hand for a few seconds, spoon in his bowl. Then he shook himself slightly and flicked his head sideways so he was looking at Seamus. "I dunno, I don't think we're going to look so bad wrinkly," he said. His gaze shifted out of focus as he pondered the possibility of drawing portraits of people as they might be in ten, twenty, forty years from now. Only muggle ones because he wouldn't want to animate that type of portrait, but the idea was oddly appealing.

Dean's frown deepened for several seconds as he totally failed to follow Seamus' point. "Oh," he said, slightly disheartened. "Oh! I know the thing you mean, but I have no idea what the word is." He was excited and deflated by turns, privately adding that Susan's current comments about them might have some slightly more interesting or colourful descriptions if she was just speaking to Dean these days. He forced himself to shrug and turn back to his soup. Not worth dwelling on.