The use of the term 'my son' immediately launches Major back into his catechism days, of which there were about three. The first class had been taught by a nun so tiny Major used to imagine her shrinking into a doll and sleeping in a cupboard at night. She'd .. unfortunately died by the time the second class came around a week later, and that one had been taught by a very flustered young man who might have just gotten out of college and obviously did not know what he was doing. Major also retrospectively suspects that the guy didn't really like children, and being forced into teaching a catechism class full of rowdy, sacrilegious children was probably the guy's nightmare. The last and final class that Major had attended had been given by a kindly priest, whose voice and general aura was very similar to the man now sputtering on the ground. Part of Major snaps to attention the way he had back then, and he offers a tight, lopsided kind of smile in return for the thanks given.

"From the - oh, no. I meant The Little Mermaid," he says, half-mumbling, before shaking his head in dismissal. "It - it's not important, don't worry about it, uh .. Father? Sir? Your Majesty? What, uh. What should I call you?" His train of thought is interrupted at the request for the retrieval of glasses. "Oh! Um." He crouches down, scouring the ground and grass for the sight of them before standing and peering into the water in the fountain. Oddly enough .. and suspiciously enough .. they're floating, tapping against the stone side of the structure. He reaches in and grabs them, using the hem of his dry scrubs to wipe off the water from the lenses before handing them over. "Here you go."