Guess he shouldn't have presented Inigo with choices if Roland had to resist the urge to clam up so fast. The moment Inigo says Earth, Roland's already fighting natural instincts to stay still and let the moment pass. Except there is no moment to pass when he created this opening himself; weak to his son, weak to the hand he's holding as flowers pepper the skin along his wrist.

Roland clears his throat as a distraction, more for himself than for Inigo. "On Earth, huh? Let me see..."

Forty years of life and every milestone is as colorful as they come, yet thinking of what to share to him is proving to be more troublesome than he anticipated. Roland inwardly grimaces at his predicament. It's pretty simple. He's just not that good with this kind of thing, either by design or by habit. He could share his deepest thoughts to Inigo as he saw fit any day, really. It's why it came so easy to him to offer the topic in the first place. But suddenly faced with it now; to recall the wildest thing he's done on Earth?

He would assume he's better at thinking things through.

"..." He hums quietly, a soft vibration against his ribcage. Then, he laughs just as quietly. Oh. He has a perfect anecdote for his teenage sensibilities.

"Okay. Wanna hear about the time I faked a fever so I could skip school and go around town for a whole day?"

There we go. Perfect. A memory that's neither painful nor uncomfortable to bring up.