Lazily, a lopsided grin grew on Ximen’s muzzle. “There’s a lot of magic in this world, kid. Arrow and Els have the flashy kind, but Ximen? He has his tricks.” To prove his point, he flicked his paw, sending a small cup of black paint to levitate toward Lucinder and Arrow.

His attention shifted to Vinegere, recognizing the wildcat hybrid as one of those noisy ass motherfuckers waking him up all the time. Ximen didn’t hold a grudge about that—insomniacs like him couldn’t be pissed the rest of the world didn’t suffer from his affliction. “This one—” he tapped a paw to his chest. “—is Ximen Xiu.”

“Oh, these?” He raised a brow as he took a chomp of the levitating heart.

“Not for painting, this time. But, when Ximen uses blood for paint, it’s more efficient to bleed a living thing than wring blood out of a corpse; let the dying heart perform its function, filling the bowl between five minutes—” He paused long enough to swallow. “—and seven seconds. Depends on which artery was severed.”

He broke eye contact to look at his bandanas, frowning at the flashiness of patterns and colors. Squinting, he selected a black and white pattern. One wave of his paw and! The bandana looped around his neck.