ohhay, there's replies here! Ten points to Lin for not paying attention. XD
He had not known his artistic expression as means for so much interest and questioning, but he supposed it was only to be expected; the boy that approached him first held wisps of color in his otherwise pure white fur, but such hues were clearly fading away from both time and a rapidly shedding winter coat. "Um... I find them like this," he tried to answer. "I don't make them change... I have different cans of color." He shifted a little to sit down on the pole, then fished through his bag and presented to Ouija a few more cans, each label a different brilliant hue. Micah smiled sheepishly, modest to be of such interest to another, sticking to his usual tendency of talkativeness when it came to art. Outside of his graffiti, the boy was a terribly shaking, nervous thing, but when the paint and colors rose from canvas to conversation, he acted no different than any other.
A tawny male entered their conversation next, remaining atop his stallion as if he hadn't the time to remain and chat. Micah's ears perked, interested in a fellow spray painter, but the boy jumped visibly at the man's brief outburst mid-sentence, though he did not question it. "M-My sister," he replied, somewhat shaken, and glanced briefly at the coyote outline on the ship's wall. The only time his ghost of a sister seemed pleased with him was when he depicted her. He could admit much further before the white male spoke up once more, requesting his own body be a canvas. Micah twitched noticeably at the concept.
It was not that he wouldn't have minded, but was nervous to waste his supplies. "Um," he mumbled, hands beginning to shake, "um, close your eyes." When the white boy did so, Micah shook a can briefly, then painted one long, red streak straight across the boy's eyes and nose and smiled nervously, glancing at Cotl. "I-I think h-he would be better at it than me."
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