It was just so ugly.

Dalton couldn't remember how many times he'd passed this statue since he'd started in his first year, but he contemplated it on his way to the owlery, stopping in front of it. The way he looked was almost admiringly - probably as close to admiring as the boy could get.

He didn't know what it was, but there was some affinity felt with the statue. Which was a weird thought, and definitely not one he'd expressed in the letter clutched in his fist. No, that parchment was merely politeness - letting Travis know that he was still alive, and asking if Aled was still living somewhere else.