Harold grins and takes the yo-yo.

He strokes it gently.

But after a few minutes he remembers why he has the pretty and tries to imitate Remiel.
But, woe, his hands are much, much too small.

And thus in a blink of an eye he ends up hoplessly tangled up, and unable to move.
He looks up Remiel with a pitiful, "if you don't help me soon, I will cry" look.