He blinks a few hundred times as he takes one item for each hand, excess supplies dropped to the floor unceremoniously. Frank is getting more desensitized every day - every moment really - to making sound. He wouldn't even blame her for screaming now. Tears instantly fill his eyes as he looks back and forth between the two things. Tiny demon girl, his gossip buddy and under-porch friend; late night patrol partner and biggest supporter Beth. Someone he'll probably never see again so having something crafted by her hand is beyond special. And then there's the photo. They all look happy, and of course most of all Max. Frank misses his best friend and brother and just as he'd taken to doing in Reims, he traces each of their faces reverently before tucking the item into his breast pocket. Next he fastens the closure on the bracelet around the wrist not bearing his teal communicator and steels himself.

Ready? he signs before picking their stuff back up and kicking the door closed with his heel. It's only enough to make a soft click, but it's still progress. This really ought to be business as usual. Strange items (or dogs!!) showing up with zero explanation. He sets this firmly in the venn diagram he has set up in his head of things all worlds like this share and things that were unique to Reims or the Villages here.