[ He shuts his eyes, listening attentively to her voice. She's always so calm; so even and steady. It makes him feel calm, too. As her fingers run through his hair, he feels the oddest sensation along his scalp, a pleasurable sort of tingling that he'd like very much to continue. So he keeps still, stone still, and his voice is a mumble when he replies. ]
That's a beautiful language. Almost as good as Thalassian.
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That's a beautiful language. Almost as good as Thalassian.
[ A joke. Maybe? He's smiling a little, anyway. ]