I guess I'm just gonna reply even though J hasn't yet...
The boy with the pepper pelt had thought he'd journeyed a little farther than most usually would; not in the least had he been expecting company, and yet he found himself hearing the voice of another even over the consistence hiss of the spray paint unleashed from the bottle in his hand. His ear twitched at the sound; ordinarily the boy might have shied away expecting some sort of scolding for trespassing or whatnot, but when it came to his artwork, well... Nothing else truly excited him than to talk about what he did best or what made him unique. Those of Juniper Peace would probably be proud of him and his means of expressing himself — if they could, you know, get over the fact that he was Razekiel's son and looked like him.
Turning, — and having to wave his arms briefly to keep his balance hunched over atop the little post lining the dock — Micah turned his chocolate eyes down to the rather... brightly-colored stranger and, judging by the lines of hues in his pelt, the Lykoi boy immediately decided they were of no particular threat to his actions. "Spray painting," he answered at first, and when queried on the substance's whereabouts, the boy simply shrugged. "You just have to look, I guess. They're really hard to find, especially any that still work or don't explode."
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