Death is you

Claude realize, then, there's nothing in particular that he really wants. Except, perhaps, some food and snacks.

Ok... Think, Claude, think. What do old people usually do when they hang out with someone half their age? "I suppose we can..." he taps the side of his head with two fingers, "read the newspaper...?" That's what old people his age liked doing, don't they?

actually Orson is around mid twenties. Its just that sadness has a way to age people too fast until they find the brightness in their life again. Of course Orson is in no condition to correct anyone.

"...Why the newspaper?"

"Fire...emblem uncle?" He questions, honestly confused at this point.

Unfazed, he sat back up immediately.

"Yes," he hummed.

Well. Actually, he'd just been curious to see its effects. But, the result was the same.

"Must've been meant for large animals," the redhead commented, head tipped with a smile.

He had his guesses as to what kind of animal exactly that was. In fact...

Then Orson gives a nod.

"Better to be careful next time. One can gain major injuries simply from indulging too much in their curiosity."

"Do you need a ride somewhere? I'm on patrol but I can give you a rise to the nearest town if need be."

"Well, I was rather enjoying myself," the red-haired man mused, staring at the other with the world askew.

He was currently suspended upside down, one ankle snared in in a rope trap.

"Did you perhaps, fall for a trap meant for animals?"