Ianto looked at Myfanwy, puzzled and confused.
“When you said Myf had been spotted, I thought you meant someone had seen her, not… this. What is it?”
Their pet Pteranodon was splattered all over with coloured splodges and looked rather put out.
“Not sure, I scraped some off; Owen’s running tests.”
“Nothing to worry about; it’s only paint, non-toxic, the kind used for paintballing,” Owen said, emerging from the autopsy bay.
“Didn’t a new paintball venue open recently just outside Cardiff?”
Ianto nodded. “It was on the news.”
They looked at each other and Owen winced. “I’ll get the Retcon.”