[While Wolfram busies himself with that crayon, Axel thinks...about nothing in particular, which is certainly odd for him. Normally Axel would always be thinking, remembering, and processing something, but in this case...no. There was nothing. Maybe his mind had become worn out after these past few days.
Thinking it, he sighs before he takes the crayon back and then taps it idly against the red paper.
Another few seconds pass before he rips out a sheet for Wolfram and passes it, later digging in his pocket to pull out a blue crayon and hand that over as well.]
Here. Write down somethin' that makes you happy now. And don't burn it.