Clover was, to put it simply, horrified. God would never forgive him if he did something like that, he thought, barely noticing how wide his eyes had become and the way his mouth was open in an 'o'. "WHAT-" Clover clapped a hand over his own mouth to stifle his voice, which had come out much louder than he'd meant it to, and stared at Bram. He shook his head. "I- I don't- but I got a coat, Bram," he insisted and tugged at his lapel to show that indeed, he was wearing the new coat. He stepped back, out of the reach of the older boy's hands on his shoulders, and shook his head vehemently. "I- I don't think I could ever do somethin' like that, unless they- they killed a kitty, or somethin'!"