Bearclaw Valley i recounted the memories

"really? what color?" merrick burbled, happy to be free of their tense words. evien would just need to trust in the bedlamite he called leader. he followed no clear rule and took pride in his own erratic choices, for at very least, he could not be called boring.
"i always thought you'd use blood for something like this," he went on, affably settling down and scratching behind a torn ear, "but blood fades into that ugly brown. better to keep them bright."