[ The very unserious expression leftover from his (somewhat) joking dig at himself rubberbands into the opposite of that. Not as in grim, but reigned in, reasonable, his smile suddenly almost demure while his eyes drift down to what would've been the grass were Alder's all-seeing gaze not there to meet them. Steve gives up, plopping his hand between his ears and stroking him from head to haunch.

Let's see if Giorno still thinks he's good with animals in a second, depending on how Alder reacts. ]

Nice of you to say all that.

[ Giorno doesn't know he used to be just as much of an idiot as Steffan when it came to being good with people, as he puts it. Now, at least, he must be doing something right to be receiving so much praise out of nowhere.

And speaking of reaching out, there's a reason he came here, and it wasn't to sit under skylights in gardens or pet wall-eyed cats, though he doesn't mind the distraction. He fishes around his jacket, which he's still wearing in April. It's a nice jacket, so sue him. ]

Here, I probably shouldn't keep holding this thing hostage.

[ The box he pulls out is flat, white, and a little too oblong for the pouch Giorno's already seen in trash quality. Not because that's not what's in there, but because Steve had some stuff leftover after packing up Riley's gift; the tissue paper inside happens to be orange for that reason. Tossing it all together only took a second, and added an extra layer of protection between it and any accidental tumbles into the mud it could have taken while he was biking over. ]

It's a, uhhhh- [ This continues for a hot second. ] A stag beetle? That kind.