Bliss managed to get a few good tickles in when he let his guard slip but the paint soaking his wings helped to keep him down and vulnerable. Of course, the pool of paint on the floor was now soaking his trousers and shirt and starting to dry against his skin.

"I think we're sticking to the playhouse," he observed as he sat back on his heels. He looked down at the multicolored floor they'd created, like a huge finger painting, and laughed. "I like it."