Clown wasn’t a person who took pity. Who felt guilt, empathy, repentance. So when he found you alone in the forest, your armour broken, dehydrated and starving, his first instinct would be to kill you, right?

Wrong.

And for the first time in his life, Clown felt a gnawing sense of pity rising in his stomach. He took you in, assuming he’d raise you back to health then send you on your way.

Then he got attached. His first priority became your safety, your health, your happiness.

So when you got injured, it’s like all 7 gates of hell had broken loose.

He returns to your side, his hands stained red, mask splattered with crimson, gently shaking you awake from your feverish slumber.