[And Giovanni, name given and the assurance of remembrance received, drifts into silence as he sets about the task of collecting sticks (and there's something vaguely funny about that, dogs and sticks, something along those lines, though he makes no mention of it.) It's an uneasy kind of silence though, less companionable and more the sort that fills up with things unsaid and unspoken, his own thoughts swiftly swarming in to fill up the gap that exists between them. The dark and twisting forest, the myriad sounds of insects and birds, the odd call of some unknown animal from off in the distance-- all of these things are strange and alien to him. All of them seek to remind him that he's a long, long way from his obliterated world, that he's out of his depth here. Maybe drowning.
A chill runs the length of his Spine, icy languid fingers, and it has nothing to do with the temperature of their environment.
But regardless, he does as he's bidden, tries to focus as much as he can on the small physical exertion required for the completion of the task. Tries to keep his looming concerns at a distance, no matter how hard they try to close in on him. And then Gladio speaks, Giovanni looks up, flashes a smile in the gathering dark that looks more like a bearing of over-sharp teeth.]
All done, I should think.
[And he does, indeed, have an armful of sticks and discarded branches. More, perhaps, than one would expect someone of his slight build to be able to manage.]
I'm fine to backtag! but also if it's easier for you, handwaving is also fine.
A chill runs the length of his Spine, icy languid fingers, and it has nothing to do with the temperature of their environment.
But regardless, he does as he's bidden, tries to focus as much as he can on the small physical exertion required for the completion of the task. Tries to keep his looming concerns at a distance, no matter how hard they try to close in on him. And then Gladio speaks, Giovanni looks up, flashes a smile in the gathering dark that looks more like a bearing of over-sharp teeth.]
All done, I should think.
[And he does, indeed, have an armful of sticks and discarded branches. More, perhaps, than one would expect someone of his slight build to be able to manage.]