Bartonburg wasn’t a place that Cliff visited often, but now that he had friends, and those friends wanted to actually see him. He wasn’t sure what Daffy wanted, it certainly wasn’t to hang out for fun because they weren’t that level of friends, but somehow she’d managed to talk him into visiting Bartonburg for something. Si here he was, hands shoved into his pockets as he prowled the streets of Bartonburg, wishing that he could recall the house number he’d given her — Cliff hadn’t considered bringing it with him because he swore that he’d remember.

Irritated at him, Cliff’s eyebrows knitted together at the sound of a woman in distress, and really, he wasn’t the kind of person to make sure anyone was okay. Excluding Ida, who would be mortified if he didn't at least make sure she was dying. Plus, if she wasn’t dying, he could probably take her valuables under the guise of checking on her. Deciding that was the best course of action, Cliff stepped up near her and cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Are you dying? Because there are better places to do that than outside.” He wrinkled his nose. If she did just collapse it would be very suspicious if he was to rummage through her belongings. Better she do that cutting through a backyard where there weren’t any peeping neighbors. Just had to worry about the guy next to her, but Cliff's specialty was stealing in broad daylight.

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