[This is not the first time Henry has broadcast from the branches of a tree. This is, however, the first time he seems genuinely happy to be in one. There's something different about the normally reclusive photographer. He's got a head full of brilliant orange hair courtesy of the Halloween section in one of the little marts in town. The spray has
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[She forgives you for everything.]
[Because this is beautiful.]
[With ALMOST a full head of black hair by this point, Heather is standing at the base of the tree with her arms around her stomach and shoulder pressed against the bark for balance. She is laughing, and she is laughing HARD.]
OHOHOHO MY GOHOD.
Y-you know that if he were here in Ecruteak, we'd both be so dead, right?
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[AND THEN THERE CAME A MIGHTY LOLZ FROM BELOW.]
[Henry peers over the edge of his branch to find adopted!sis laughing her ass off. A little grin surfaces. c: It wasn't a face he made often, but the photographer was proud of himself and he was glad Heather approved.]
Yeah.
[He then observed something.]
We're both Halloween colors now.
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[... Which may mean very little when both of them inevitably get pinned under an ANGRY AUTOBOT GLARE later, but she's proud of her adopted!bro coming out of his shell enough to be a mischievous goofball for a little bit. The Halloween spirit is all about pranks, after all.]
[Wiping at one eye, she looks up with a big grin and plucks at her hair. She finally chopped off whatever was left of the blond, so it's a little shorter than normal, but ALL black now.]
We totally are!
It was fate.
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... Shit! I don't blend in!
Hair, why are you failing me?!
[She turns in circles, flapping her hands anxiously, before dashing over to the trunk of the tree and pressing herself against the darkest patch of bark she can find.]
I don't wanna be carried off!
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[The glameow in question rolls his eyes. B[ Pfff he was best glameow. he didn't have to deal with this.]
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I've got your number, backstabber!
This is like the SECOND time you've set me up to take the f--ohjesus.
[A shadow had passed across the leaf-covered ground as a wild Fearow on its way to skewer some Caterpie in the woods somewhere soared overhead-- and Heather, accordingly, threw her arms over her scruffy black head and scampered further under the cover of the trees, letting out a little squeal.]
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[Do you hear it?]
[That honking crow is Henry trying to laugh maniacally.]
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[Not in a bad way, though! Still, keeping in-character, she scrunches her face up at him from her 'shelter' in the shade.]
You dastardly fiend!
Now I'm trapped!
If I come out, the birds will get me.
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[Henry really, really wanted to try to ride that horse.]
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I already gave you a turtle furnace. The last thing YOU need is TWO living fire hazards.
[She's watched you light those candles whenever you get spooked, Henry.]
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