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“Not at all.” Rather, he didn’t think he had anything to do. Likely, no. He was a free man. “How can I help you out?”

“A token of their interests in the past can serve for a reminder of better times.”

“Mhm. The trick to it, I’ve heard, is wearing a coat with softer fabric on the inside.” Alas, he wasn’t the most intelligent in coats as he wore a cloak and preferred that, but at least he’d eavesdropped on a few conversations in his lifetime. “There’s also finding warmer spots. Or friends.” 

“Would you like me to find you a coat?”

“That’s good news to hear.” Truth be told, it was. He recalls when he went to the orphanages delivering gifts under the guide of Santa back in the skies. “I’ve wondered how the cultures have spread over the worlds in this way. But I’m happy to know they have.”

“Christmas is celebrated here as well? Is Santa a concept here too?”

“Surely you belong to someone who is missing you dearly, hmm?” 

Lifts the side of his cloak up to shelter whatever poor individual might be stuck out in this horrible, yet beautiful weather.

“These are cute. They remind me of snacks children in the kingdom used to grow excited over.” Perhaps similar recipes, as they appeared almost identical. Lips part and he takes a small nibble from the top, testing it. Mango, was it? He could agree that it had a tang like it, but was far more creamier. As if it were milky. Regardless, he caps his opinion, choosing instead to hold his free hand out to the youth. “Siegfried. Mike isn’t a common name where I am from. Thank you for sharing with me. Are you knowledgeable on the occasion?”

“It appears like I’ve missed all the fun.” Pocky day? He wasn’t entirely sure on it, but the atmosphere seemed lively from the excitement. “You won’t mind letting me try one of those sticks, will you?”

“Yes, pain is part of survival and it does give you experience. I disagree that it will make everyone stronger.” He considers, if not for a moment-- Gunther and how the pain only drove him angrier and angrier, until eventually it led to such hurt that he begged for mercy. “Why do you think emotions are weak?”

“I’ve met thousands of angry men in my lifetime, their past all has someone who has hurt them greatly. Maybe you’re different.” A pause. “Or maybe you’d prefer not to tell a stranger your woes.”

“You don’t have to stand around idle. Worrying about a situation won’t change it, but it will give you bad headaches.” The smile remains, though more amusement spreads along it. “What are you afraid of happening?”

Good grief, he thinks internally eyeing the glare. His expression soothes out, becomes less inquiring and more sympathetic. “I asked if someone has hurt you.”

A soft smile sets on his features and he turns his head to the shorter, sunlight casting warmly along half of his face. “Maybe it would be best not to worry about the negatives, but appreciate that there’s enough quiet time to think.”

“Sounds like the perfect time to start.”