“Do you like them?” Nightstorm asked as Beetle put on her new leathers.
The leathers were supple—moreso than Beetle’s old leathers—which meant that she would move more easily. It was part of the reason Beetle had requested the new ones. As a word hunter, Beetle often found herself hidden precariously in close proximity to the humans, and she had found that her old pants were not as comfortable as she would have liked. The poncho had gotten in the way numerous times, and she had finally reached a point where she wanted, and needed, something different. Now that she had these on, she wished she had asked for them much sooner.
Nightstorm had been more than willing to help fashion new leathers. They had discussed their ideas while out gathering together. Nightstorm’s mind had taken off, and she had shared her many ideas with Beetle, most which included very bright colors. Beetle had declined the bright colors, trying to explain that she wanted something brown.
Nightstorm had been… reluctant… to fashion leathers in all brown. “That would be a waste!” she had said at one point, explaining that brown just wasn’t creative. She had also tried arguing that brown would make Beetle look even paler than she already was. They had argued a little, and at one point Nightstorm had threatened to make Beetle fashion her own leathers.
Beetle was neither a tanner nor a seamstress, and she needed Nightstorm’s help. She could have asked Moss, but she really did like Nightstorm’s sense of fashion, and she trusted the tanner, even if they were of different opinions about the color scheme. After a while, Beetle had conceded that the leathers did not have to be brown, and Nightstorm had promised that the leathers wouldn’t include bright colors. She had conceded that brighter oranges and yellows were not the best choice for hiding oneself.
The leathers Beetle was putting on were not only soft, they were beautiful. Greens! The leggings and hip-length top she had put on were differing shades of green. The added touches of a pouch belt, new boots, and a neckpiece added some color, but not so much that it would attract unwanted attention.
“Well,” Nightstorm interrupted Beetle’s reverie. “Do you like them?”
Beetle grinned. “I do like them. Thank you!”
“See—I told you brown wasn’t right for you.”
Beetle wasn’t about to get into another argument about colors. She was pretty sure the browns she had thought of would have worked as well. But the leathers Nightstorm had fashioned were perfect.