His Royal Highness woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
Dimitri's been going between snarling some seriously impressive, and explicit, threats and pleading with someone named Glenn to be patient 'just a little longer'. Begging this person to understand that he hasn't forgotten and will avenge them if it's the last thing he does as he storms through the snow as though it doesn't exist and thick underbrush besides.
Claude, ever the one to perfect the subtle art of pretending to be obedient, follows along behind the grouchy prince at a distance he deems 'safe enough' on the ground. Halide, his faithful wyvern, is tracking Dimitri from above and ensures her handler can see her at all times.
Truth be told, he isn't sure to think or make of what's going on with Dimitri. He's seen men and women alike lost to madness before; the hallucinations of drug, drink, poison, and age addled minds. He's even seen his grandfather call out to and have conversations with people long dead when on his deathbed. The last one concerned him enough he reached out to Hilda about it and asked what she thought, thinking it might be something different in Fodlan than it is in Almyra. Hilda, in her infinite and practical wisdom, cheerfully redirected the question to Mercedes and Lysithea to answer.
Mercedes had been the most philosophical on the matter. 'Who can say what the dying can see that the living can't? It wouldn't be unheard of for the Goddess to grant such a thing to those whose souls are preparing to separate from their mortal shell. As long as the visitors are welcome and bring the dying comfort, why begrudge them the reunion?' She'd smiled at him in such a gentle way that it made him feel bad for even doubting her words. Rather more spiritual than he'd been ready to handle, but it did leave him with a good deal to think about.
Lysithea, on the other hand, told him to fuck off in her usual eloquent manner and demanded he turn the flame higher on the oil lamp as he saw himself out. Hearing her swear at him was almost enough to keep him from coming back about an hour later and attack her window with a stick in retaliation. Almost. And he really was a little sorry the next morning when she came in sleepless and jumping at the shadows.
But, in the end, Claude's decided to chalk it up to a mystery best left to be solved when he's not in the middle of a war, when he has some spare time on his hands, or he really wants to irritate the hell out of Lorenz. Any of those scenarios would be acceptable uses of his time.
Watching Dimitri do this to himself, however, is not an acceptable use of either of their time and he's had about enough of it. The dead have had their time; it's time for them to give Dimitri back to the realm of the living where he belonged. Removing a glove and tucking it under his arm, Claude places two fingers in his mouth and looses a long, shrill whistle in the man's direction. It's an effective way to get his attention, and sure enough, Dimitri's blond head snaps up and whips to the side to look at him with a wild, unfocused gaze.
Sheesh, maybe it's for the best I'm not the most spiritually sensitive guy. "You ready to head out? Or, do I need to hold an emergency meeting with these ghosts of yours and tell them politely, but firmly, to back off?"
For a moment, the black fury on Dimitri's face makes Claude wonder if he's going to have to either shoot him fast or have Halide intervene on his behalf. She could dive down, grab him, and lift him in the time it'd take him to get halfway to Claude's position. The moment vanishes and Dimitri stares at him a good long time before his hand comes up and presses tightly against his skull. The lines at his mouth deepen in a grimace and his voice is hoarse as he speaks. "Claude…?"
"Yep, the one and only." He replies easily.
One eye roams about the area. He frowns. "Where-"
"About three miles from our little love nest." Claude laces his fingers behind his head, an old habit never quite forgotten from his Academy days, and continues just as casually as before. "No offense, but are you sure you're okay, Your Highness? We can head back and wait for Teach at the shelter if you'd rather go with her."
There's a vehement shake of his head. "No, I-" Dimitri pauses and glares at something, or someone, Claude can't see. There's a bone-deep sigh and he mutters something under his breath.
"Didn't quite catch that." Claude drawls.
"You sound like Glenn." Grumpy again, but a different type of grumpy. Claude can work with that.
"Oh yeah? Tell you what, let's go find some of your friends from the Blue Lions and you can tell me all about this Glenn guy along the way." He replies with the same kind of fake cheeriness that's gotten him in, and out of, trouble a number of times throughout his life. While his attitude and overall disposition don't seem any different, he's definitely keeping a sharp eye on Dimitri's body language and expressions for clues on how the tall man is about to react.
It takes a moment or ten before Dimitri finally nods his head in agreement. The tension in the air dissipates along the chilling breeze and Dimitri crunches through the snow toward him with slumped shoulders and a grim cast to his features.
"Good call, Halide is getting bored and I'd hate to have a repeat of what happened seven years ago."
As if on cue, Halide roars her displeasure and lands with a powerful beat of her wings beside him. Her large head whips away from Claude and aims toward Dimitri. Two large golden eyes narrow as she stretches her neck out to snuffle at his clothing.
Dimitri holds still.
Halide snorts out a noxious burst of air from her snout and retracts her neck back to a normal position.
"Huh, guess she approves of you." She hates just about everyone, so this is pretty unusual.
"This is rare, I take it?" Dimitri asks dryly. He hopes the wyvern's breath doesn't cling to his furs, hair, or armor. He'd rather not go around smelling like spoiled eggs.
Claude offers a one-shouldered shrug and gives Halide an affectionate slap against the neck. "You could say that. Only person she likes so far other than me is Teach and Marianne. She really likes Marianne. Everyone else is tolerated unless you're Lorenz." He has to brace himself when she retaliates with a solid headbutt against his side and rubs her cheek against him like an oversized cat.
Dimitri almost smiles at that. Almost. "What, pray tell, does she do to those who are not in her favor?"
Claude is already in the saddle and offers his hand to help Dimitri up. The Faerghus Prince is getting the last strap buckled into place when he finally answers the man's question with a grin he can't bother to hide.
"Drops 'em off the highest cliff she can find."