"Iamnotasquare," Fervo grumbled, but he said it too quietly for anyone to really hear. Instead, Feravelo watched as Prisma blushed and struggled over his name. He didn't mind it too much--at least she tried to pronounce it right. Not like stupid Kalick. He just made fun of the name. Fervo gave a small shrug and murmured, "It's alright. I prefer not having a same old name like other people..." He sat downon the grass and licked a paw calmly. He didn't mind Prisma much. She seemed like a nice calm girl, not a wild madman--or womam, in Prisma's case--like Kalick. It was probably the Arkuhna genes. Much more respected than those like Kalick.
"Oh, maybe," Kalick sighed, remembering some of the very pretty girls he'd been with, "but none were as nice as you." Ah, charming Kalick. He was always like this, trying to make the girls like him. "Er...do you...paint, or anything?" Kalick was curious to know what Prisma was really like. Although he did spend sometimes linger on the outward appearance of another person, he always knew it was better to find out the person inside. That way, he could see what they were really like. If they were just the same old people who blended into the crowds in life or the ones that stuck out like a sore thumb. He liked the sore thumbs. They were more interesting. And more fun.