Sleeping Dragon laid waste to all your inhibitions

it is only in the aftermath of his light teasing that ezra considers his words might have unsettled her. small frown tugs at the edges of his lips, sheepish expression nesting upon his features. i vas teasing you..., the stoneson offers, apologetic. maybe humor wasn't his forte — he was still trying to discover who he was outside the grief — a wound that should be old now — and aggressive isolation.

humor might not be apart of it.

a couple of months, answers ezra, taking to her questions out of order. my accent vas my father's. picked up when ezra'd been young, parroting what he'd heard and deciding that he wanted to be just like anselm. the mimicry of the accent had become ingrained him until it became apart of ezra, too.