Dean looked out at the flying creatures. "Creepy things, a bit. But I've never seen them fly much. Less creepy when they're in the air," he admitted, echoing Theo's shrug and then walking over to lean against the wall between the windows, a window's space between him and Theo, watching the odd creatures swoop and turn.
Dean was, for the most part, friendly. But he wasn't without his own prejudices - he'd learned them for a reason, over the years. Nott wasn't doing anything though, so Dean had no reason to be irritated by him. The cold shoulder was milder than most, anyway. Dean could chatter and talk when he wanted to, or when he was brought out by someone else talking. But he could be quiet on his own too, and after a moment he shrugged, twisting to perch in the edge of the window, raising a knee to prop the sketchpad on and flipping it open, back against cool stone as he started to sketch.