Blacktail Deer Plateau Quite The Goofball

again, a shrug. "the lot of it, i suppose," he said with a smile. "like i said, it's all my mother and uncle spoke when i was young. and i have dreams, too, in the language. we call them sapnon." he thought of hari's visits, those vivid waking dreams that blurred the edges between reality and illusion.

of course, perhaps reality was the illusion. his mother had once taught him that.

"no singing? nothing? ah, well," aditya teased. "you might not be as bad as you think you are. give it a try; let's hear a song." his voice was set in mock encouragement, but a big part of him did actually want to hear this man's pipes. he loved a good song, after all.