[He leans down a little, to check it out. His own hair falls in his face when he does, and he has to stop and blow it out of the way first. But yep, those sure are some pointy ears. Cool.]
Uh, no. Why would I bring you that? Shakespeare's been dead since my great grandmotger's great great grandmother was a baby or something. That's why I thought it'd make you feel at home.
Where I am from, you only see that sort of language in older texts - and religious texts, for that matter. Human ones, anyway. [she hums thoughtfully to herself] I do not think there is even an equivalent in my own language. If there is, I do not know it.
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. . . then bursts into laughter, genuinely amused and a little relieved, too]
While I am touched you would mistaken me for one, no. I'm a half-elf. [she reaches up to push some hair away from her ear so he can get a better look]
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Cool.
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I do not think I will get used to people thinking like that.
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Ah . . . let's just say that my kind is not very . . . welcome in my world.
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[It's not exactly eloquent, but it's a genuine response. He studies the ears again for a moment, and shrugs.]
They're nice. We like them.
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Thank you.
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[It's sweet, but he doesn't want to draw out her reaction, so he changes the subject to something less personal.]
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You said it was Shakespeare, but . . . what is it about?
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Perhaps I can explain it when I am done with it, then.
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[that's . . . that's really, really sweet]
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I barely know the difference between those.
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