Wingspan(Paranormal, Young Adult) MAJOR EDITING**

fifty one

Looking at this one piece i could tell Wesley didn't rush putting together the image of a two dimensional castle.

The castle was surrounded by grass that was covered in snow with a bridge that cut straight across the paper and stopped short of trees that made up one edge of the page.

i got the perception Wesley preferred old school free hand drawing. 

wesley could draw anything and his ability to display attention to detail showed as he shaded in select pieces of brick to the blacked out windows that were uniform and of different length and size yet they each seemed proportionate when compared. 

the piece was magnificently sketched right down to the high arches illustrated on top of the window frames. it was just...so beautiful. and expertly done.

(FIVERR) blackcatblues

thanks to the angle in which the focal point was framed around looking at the replica i was able to imagine that i was in the illustration, placing myself as Wesley, standing in his shoes on the snow with a line of trees to my right hand side. 

still picturing myself in Wesleys mind at the time that he drew it, i look up and ahead at the familiar structure that had obviously meant a great deal to Wesley otherwise he could have drawn something else entirely. 

situated directly in front of me was the largest and oldest castle built nine hundred years ago.

"wow. its the Windsor castle." i say admiring the slanted roof knowing that i would never get my lines that straight.

although i held Wesleys work in high regard i didn't know what exactly it said about him. that he was into old buildings, probably.

"you're a fan of the royal family?" i ask signing my initials in the corner away from the actual drawing. 

i gave him a five. if i could i would have put down a hundred but students had a one to five point grading system. our comments would be taken into account when mr. honeycott looked at them and finalized the grades in his student assignment chart.

Wesley shrugs his shoulders and took his 'look book' back once Mason had finished admiring it. "not particularly." Wesley said to me nonchalantly.

it didn't surprise me that Wesley was neither chovanistic nor boastful. when it came down to physicality and individual achievement Wesley was not a mundane human being. 

Why, if i'd harbored a fraction of the talent Wesley had i would boast to any one who dare remain silent and listen.

Mason clears his throat.

we both look at Mason, confused.

"why dont i go next?" he says. for whatever reason mason decided to forgo the humble approach and went straight to a display of self advertisement.

Mason stands up holding his notebook in front of him like it was a billboard or something.

Mason's strokes were bold and precise yet vividly colorful thanks to the little snippet of the boy/ girl cartoon. 

in that piece i could definitely see the type of person Mason interpreted himself as being. which was still more than i could say for Wesley.

looking at the large paper mason held there was a multicolored cartoon that caught my eye of a boy who saved a girl in distress from a one legged hostile thing with a cardboard box over its head. they sat on top of what i thought to be either a shark or a pink airplane behind an ugly silver-ish building that looked run down and unused.