The sky-haired kings in the cemetery cannot hurt you! They are dead of intrigue! The grass-haired artists in the cemetery cannot hurt you! They are dead of old age! The sun-haired clerks in the cemetery cannot hurt you! They are dead of accident! The steel-haired soldiers in the cemetery cannot hurt you! They are dead of warfare! The fruit-haired doctors in the cemetery cannot hurt you! They are dead of illness! The flower-haired shopkeepers in the cemetery cannot hurt you! They are dead of cold! The blood-haired janitors in the cemetery cannot hurt you! And would not even if they were alive! Too-too-a-too-ee-yay.

He's maybe crying. Doesn't affect the singing.

"- are you okay?" once Katin is asleep.

"Yeah. People shouldn't die. Ever, of anything."

"Maybe spirit more undertakers off to Valinor before you get that handled."

"Oh, we're going to get you all out somehow." Hug?

"I - illegal, so illegal -"

"They come and check even here?"

"They wouldn't barge in and see but if you told - you'd have to work at it to get them to believe you that Katin grabbed you on purpose but I, I have a baby whose hair's growing in orange you'd just have to whisper half a sentence -"

"I am having a hard time imagining how I'm evil enough to do that but not to lie, but I won't touch you if it's going to make you afraid."

"Well it was a really bad idea last time."

"I don't suppose I dare hope he got in trouble for it."

"Who, him, he never touched a red in his life, how dare you, and if he did it was my fault, see."

"That's also illegal in Valinor. No matter who - if I hurt you you could take it straight to the King and he'd listen, if the King hurt you you'd take it to Maitimo -"

"It's not even like I wouldn't've if he'd warned me so I could take the pills - friendly orange boy wanted to touch me -"

"I could probably make a fuss. They're being very accommodating of us, maybe it'd even achieve something."

"Gosh, maybe you would make so much of a fuss that he would acknowledge his child and decide she shouldn't be raised by a repulsive undertaker, wouldn't that be something."

Sigh. "Right. I won't - you decide what you want, obviously."

"Thanks."

She closes the box she's packed.

"When's your father get home again?"

"Any minute now."

Nod. Sigh. "Could you have gotten in trouble for the orange hair -"

"Not really. It can always be a throwback to an earlier generation. Orange or purple you can say it's just an odd shade of red, too pale like I used to be you can just say - uh, that it's just pale -"

"And blue and green happen less, probably -"

"Yeah. There's a man up the street whose roots grow in greenish but you don't ask."