Separate names with a comma.
"Then I'd be... 95? 96?"
She looked up at him, their faces close. "Still."
"How old are you?"
She hugged him, her brows furrowed. "So have you."
He looked down at her. "How old would I be if I were an elf?"
She looked over at him before sighing and putting her head on his shoulder.
He frowned, watching ahead. "That's weird."
She frowned and looked down, tugging on her hair. "I don't really want to talk about it. I don't know how to explain it."
"Well, yeah. Elves and demons age differently. If you were a demon you'd probably be about.. 263?"
"While you were asleep," she said, frowning almost immediately. "It felt.. kind of final.."
He shook his head slowly. "No, I don't think so."
She looked over at him. "Ours is pretty common, still."
"You're not really a child," he said slowly.
She brightened a little, her ears perking up at the idea. "Oh! I didn't know that."
He raised an eyebrow at her curiously. "I don't like children?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't like children."
"Languages of flowers?" she asked. "Like with colors?"
He pursed his lips. "What about your family?"
She leaned back, looking thoughtful. "Well, people use white as congratulations, black as an apology, blue for confessing feelings or asking to...
He looked back ahead. "I don't know. I'm still not sure what I'm going to do afterwards.'
