Bearclaw Valley you're not to stop me, whatever happens

tailtip caught between pale teeth, merrick pretended to yelp, then allowed himself another ripple of chuckling that did not abate when he straightened, single lantern eye alighting on the man who stood grimly across the way.
merrick did not care that he had trespassed, though he suspected astara would have thought differently, but that did not stop the young madman from immediately approaching the stranger.
childlike, but not so much as to dodder into the other's personal space, merrick found himself fascinated by the waves of dark chocolate, the burnished gold accents, the arrogant stare.
"enjoy the show?"