Tyler grinned. "Just a turtle. Pretty sure it's the only thing I can draw and make it even vaguely resemble what it's supposed to be." He wasn't an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He didn't think any of the Sons were, unless Pogue or Caleb was hiding some talent from them.
He dipped the brush again, stilling his hand as the lights flickered but held. Even with the candles burning around them, he preferred having the lights. He ... really just wished the damn things would go away.
Then he recalled the wizards and witches were doing their best to keep them away, so he shouldn't be too upset about it.
Ari hiccuped when the lights flickered, and she tightened her grip on the marker. If she was a proper witch, if she wasn't broken and useless, she could be out there with the others, making her own patronus to help send the dementors away.
She peered down at the red lines on the sheet and thought they looked nothing like a phoenix, and she missed her brothers and she hated this whole miserable place.
Tears tumbled down her cheeks but she brushed them away before resolutely forcing herself back to her art.