Paul kneeled down in a small field by a body of water, picking small white flowers--which were most likely only weeds--up between his fingers, and tossing them back once he's broke the stems. He sighed and turned his head back to the still water, before he looked behind himself and saw you--his only sibling--standing over him, watching. He gave a small, polite smile as he picked another batch of the small flowers, holding it up to you. "For you," He said softly.