[Chillin' out in the forest, walking around, doing his thing-and he's got his journal open on his knee at the lake, commenting on how fucking cold these lakeside views are-when the droid's shadows creep up across the scenery in the video. To which he can only look a.) alarmed at first, and b.) finally and entirely annoyed and exasperated.]
Can't you
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He moves to pick up the journal first, but as he does his eye catches what's written there.]
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Alright, Wolfwood. Alright. [Are you there to talk to? No. Does he care? No, but he gets it.]
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The last thing she needs right now after all is to see him acting sad again.]
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... You still owe him a drink, asshole, so get back soon.]
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