The crisp air swirled with colored leaves as they fell to the ground in the breeze. It was almost that time of year again when the world would grow quiet like the animals that hibernate when the winter chills came. The gentle blowing of the leaves as they collided on the branches might be Knox's favorite part of Fall. The sunset mixed with the sea breeze was a comforting sight. The young man walked down the sidewalk, working his way towards exiting the campus. He had a night shift at the Lighthouse, guiding those lost in the cover of the dark away from the cliffs and back to safety. They say that a lighthouse guides the lost souls, but he never believed that.

A slightly curled white lock fell over his bitter blue eyes as he strolled past the trees that he had once enjoyed sitting up in the warm weather. Hands plunged into his fleece lined pockets. The deep glare of his resting face was to hopefully repel any unwanted confrontation. It however would disappear when someone engaged with him for a warm smile that radiated around the room. His gait was rhythmic, Knox's gaze straight forward. His pose was confident and unbothered, yet he fought his instincts to look at the ground as he walked. That way he didn't have to make eye contact with people, or even look at them. He could watch the dried out leaves crumble under his leather shoe soles. That wasn't what he was taught so that wouldn't be how he acted in public. “A Devaile would never act that way.” He could hear his mothers stern voice in his ears.

The tall figure stopped to cross a street, scanning the area around him, nodding slightly at a young woman who passed him. He was almost out of campus now. Freedom was so close. It was his last year of school, and Knox was set to graduate in the upcoming spring. After that, he'd be gone with the wind never to be seen again. That was unless something better than his reason to run appeared. He crossed the road, zoned out, humming quietly to himself. His shoes hit the sidewalk and the turned right. Like an idiot, Knox had left his bike at his apartment, opting to have taken the bus this morning, carrying a model for class. Nothing had prepared the 24-year-old for the hell that Architecture school would be. The gruesome late nights fueled by coffee and tears. Voices running in the breeze from ahead caught his attention, drawing him from his idle state to reality. He checked his wristwatch on his left arm, wanting to know that he wouldn't be late for work. A tardy employee was the only thing that the shop house owner disliked more than children. With there only being two people who worked for her, it wasn't hard to keep track of them. She would great you at the door, arms crossed, shaking her head to show her disappointment. It was the kind of thing that made Knox frown. The guilt of disappointing his boss would keep him awake for the next week. As he grew close to the voices, the more curious he got. He ought to mind his own business, but everyone else's was far more interesting. Lengthening his stride to bound around the corner wasn't the best idea. To be walking at such a brisk pace around a blind corner. That surely was a recipe for disaster. That however didn't come into Knox's mind at the moment. He had a bus to catch and he couldn't be late for work. Stuck in his own mind he didn't slow was he took the turn. This resulted in being torn from whatever cloud his head was stuck in as his slick soles collided with the fallen leaves. His hands, still in his pockets, were no help to him as the ground seemingly got closer to the grey pavement colored with orange and red specks. His hands fought to be freed from their confinement to no avail. He crashed to the ground with a large thump. His bag scattered out in front of him, the partly done model he'd worked on just that afternoon crushed under his weight.

In an embarrassed manner the young man finally got his hands out and sat back on his knees. His face now raw and bruised, blood starting to trickle from his nose as he picked up the pieces that once were in the shape of an old Victorian house with a defeated look on his face. He for sure was going to be late for work now, but that as it seemed was the least of his worries.