A spilled bottle of red hair dye was on the bathroom counter, as you sat on the bathroom floor, practically mid-breakdown, because just like any other sane person, when you’re going insane, don’t talk to a therapist, dye your hair! There was red hair dye on your hands, clothes, counter, sink, towels, floor, even the bathtub. Of course, your hair was wet, hard dyed, to half your head was pinned up with a clip, the other half just in red clumps.

There was a knock on the door, before Leona Kingscholar came in, and stared down at you. He looked sort of horrified, mostly confused.

“Herbivore?!”