9

You elect to show them your range by demonstrating something quite different that you've worked on.

You reach into your wallet and wrap your fingers around a stoppered vial. "You there," you say to the youngest of the Hutchins children, "what is your favorite color?"

The youth blinks. "Blue?"

"Red it is," you say, spinning the paint vial in the air and catching it adroitly. The moldy lid of an ale cask rests on the ground nearby. You saunter to it and tilt it up against a rock as you speak.

"Have you a favored beast?"

"The porpoise, I suppose."

"Horse it is," you say brightly as you shake a great glob of paint onto the circle of wood. An unexpectedly good-sized knot of festival-goers attend as you grab a long stick and begin to stroke it through the paint.

Onward