The paint is dripping.
North frowns and catches some of the paint on a cloth. Bunny's paint is good quality, but it's meant for eggs, not toys- although the color is just as beautiful on wood as it is on shell.
"I like that red."
He turns around to see Grim, leaning against the door.
"Knocking is good manners, you know," he says, holding out the cloth just in time to catch another dribble of paint.
"Does Bunny know you stole that pot of paint?" she asks, striding over to the desk where North is working.
He holds a finger up to his lips. "Is our little secret, yes?"
"It looks good on the cloth," she notes, tilting her head to better examine the shade. "I'm surprised that's one of Bunny's- he usually prefers softer colors."
"Exactly! Is not his style. I am taking off his hands, doing favor!" he rationalizes.
Grim's quirked lips tell him she remains unconvinced of his logic.
"I suppose you won't mind if I go tell him where it went, then," she drawls, gliding back to the door. She doesn't bother opening it; instead, she vanishes in a cloud of black smoke.
North nearly knocks over toy and paint pot alike rushing to catch Grim. "Shostakovich! Come back!"