[It's your curse, Fynn, being related to a man who's tall enough to be a little intimidating to strangers. But it certainly helps the image of him being the big, older brother, taking care of his baby brother. Making him tea when he was sick (because yes, Fynn, you are indeed sick), and frowning at him when he attempts to squish one of his cats.

Erebus startles, of course, though he isn't the sort to get irritated. He had his claws planted squarely into Fynn's back, but that's only because the poor thing thought it was going to get flattened; when Fynn straightens, Erebus jumps off the couch and disappears down a hallway.]

Fynn, I'd appreciate it if you refrain from trying to smother my cats.

[But into the kitchen he goes! It's not far from being connected to the living room, so while Fynn will lose sight of Ardyn, his voice will still be clear as his speaks.]

Where memories are concerned, I don't think I'd want for you to. [The clinking noises of Ardyn rustling around in the kitchen goes here.] They're confusing and, as I've told others, will cause me to have an existential crisis sooner rather than later if it keeps up.

[It's a joke, but only half of one.]