[ He actually would climb onto Henry’s shoulders if he thought he could get away with it. But despite the years, he still has some sense in that scattered brain of his. So instead, he snorts and nudges the vines away, turning it into an odd game that’s fun for no one but him. It’s a stark difference from the young man who once tiptoed among those vines with extreme caution, terrified by the very idea of even brushing against one.

Eventually, he grows bored of his game and begins to climb a little higher into the tree, humming some long-forgotten tune beneath his breath. ]

Sure. I’ll do that. What about, like, flies? Beetles? You gonna leave them hanging? How about I just send all insects your way?

[ He crouches down on the branch to grin down at Henry, but the scuttling of the spider across his hand, freed from its amber prison, is what ultimately makes him slip. It doesn’t scare him so much as it startles him, like being jolted out of sleep, and he takes a relatively short fall to the ground, landing on his back.

He’s got a full on slapstick act going on over here. You should be glad he came, Henry. ]

Shit—You know, this is a good angle for you.

[ He grins and sits up with a grimace, contenting himself to sit cross-legged on the ground for the time being, fingers laced beneath his chin. ]

What do the mortals normally leave you, Henry? Maybe we can arrange a trade.