' you'd not last a day. And that's not even a dig. ' Grumbling more incoherent things as he kept looking for the item that twink was hiding. Flicking his scarf over his shoulder as he looked.

[He's awoken. Sitting up in his makeshift bed of flour bags and a curtain - alone. Inhaling.] ' [Censored swearing] !!!! ' [Now, its time to get cooking.]

[Sprout looked at the sun, giving a sigh] ' my back popped in three places. I have to sometimes yell about that. '

I'm fine Sol . . . Honestly. It just needs that morning crack.

' . . . yes. '

' yes - very much so. ' standing up, as smaller auditable pops are heard as he settles in to feeling normal.

He hears someone shouting on the intercom. That's his sign. Just going to shut the kitchen doors and lock them. Not dealing with whatever negative IQ shenanigans the others are getting up to.

' i do not know, nor do i care to. ' he waves a dismissive hand ' whatever it is, it's not coming in here. we have too much to do. '

' awh fucks sake - ' ' how'd you get in here?! - '

I aM NOT-

LOOK AT THIS PROJECTION

Slowly opening the door, the berry looks out of his room ' Astro ! what a suprise- '

' i was in my 20s then, and much more jolly. '

. 𝙴 𝚐 𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙴𝚐𝚐-𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔...

' . . . . ' ' I'll try. '

' I'm going for a walk. ' scowling as he looked at the temperature in the kitchen peaking at 120 degrees. ' It'll probably rain. '

' if you wish to. i don't care each way. ' instead of wearing short sleeved clothing to better cool off after being in that oven of a kitchen, he /instead/ puts on his heavy /wool coat/ and hat.

' yep. ' grumbling. ' same shit different day. '

' . . . . well. its. certainly been some time. ' ' im. back. i suppose. '