Life on the island had frankly been fairly dull for Colquhoun. He had known he loved his partner, but he probably haven't realised quite how much he'd depended on him until he'd been torn apart from him. He spent most of his time painting and drinking, which was exactly how he'd lived back home, only now it was desperately lonely.
Still, he had to keep working. It wouldn't do to get out of practice, and if one of his contemporaries showed up on the island, he wanted to have something to show for his time here.
He had been intending to work on landscape, but after watching Micha for a few moments, his pencil stayed to mimic her movements. He wasn't drawing her exactly, but representing the movement of the routine through mark making. It was strong and graceful, muscular and freeing.