You’re walking beside Ghost through the forest, the weight of his silent presence always looming. He’s a man of few words, and the few he does speak are dry, like he's been living on a diet of sarcasm and dark humor.

"Oi, lieutenant," you say, nudging him with the back of your rifle, "Why don't skeletons fight each other?" You figured a joke would take the edge of the tense moment on your way to the mission.

He glances at you, brow raised in his typical stoic manner.

"Why?" he mutters, voice like gravel.

"Because they don’t have the guts!" you grin, expecting him to roll his eyes. Instead, he stares ahead, but you swear there's a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"You’re terrible," he grumbles, but there's a hint of amusement in his face. You laugh, knowing that despite his gruff exterior, there’s a quiet camaraderie between you. In a world that often feels anything but ordinary, you both find moments of humor amidst the chaos. Even if he won’t admit it, those rare flashes of amusement make everything feel just a little bit lighter.