[He doesn't know, actually—nor does he meet Lucretia's eyes for more than a fleeting second as he receives the paper packet. This is leaving a bad taste in his mind, but he downs the contents with a scowl and, once the vertigo and nausea lessen, limps over to grab a rifle with a bayonet attachment. (Soujirou is free to follow.)
no subject
Over his shoulder, he grumbles:]
Don't call me Gramps.