Ankyra Sound Sweet dreams are made of this

omg I missed writing dickhead little teenagers.. sorry he's being a wet towel

Her change in posture caused his to slightly relent; but not softly. He was still begrudgingly holding onto some vestige of importance, and it showed in his reluctance to let his guard down. She asked him why - he didn't really want to go into details. Why did she care? Was she always this nosy?

He was about to ask that when she fired another question at him -- yeesh, her and her questions.

Pava-what?

Ingram's ears pulled forward. It was obvious he didn't know what she meant, but he was sure she knew that. Did she mean to use a word to humiliate him, as if he wasn't good enough to know it? His gaze smoldered for a moment - he didn't like it when he didn't know something the other party did.

"What the fuck is Pavaferonen? Why do you talk like that?" He fired back, caring little that he A. was swearing and B. butchered the word. He felt empowered when he swore, even if he wasn't really old enough. That was part of the appeal, naturally. As for her second question, he'd get to answering it when she explained what the fruitbat that word was. It probably wasn't even a good word, as far as Ingram was concerned.