[himself, he was rifling through a pocket to pull out the crumpled, folded-too-many-times-over bit of scrap paper he'd brought with him.
flattened out and smoothed on the floor best he can, it shows his work: alphabets over and over, scrawled first in Bariyan's hand, traced thickly over in Martin's. fairly gradeschool, but then...Martin never learned to write, and this is a new body. double new?
speaking of double, he does a double-take when he sees her writing. a little startled:]
Wait– what's that? Those aren't...[he leans forward, squinting at them.] What letters are those?
no subject
flattened out and smoothed on the floor best he can, it shows his work: alphabets over and over, scrawled first in Bariyan's hand, traced thickly over in Martin's. fairly gradeschool, but then...Martin never learned to write, and this is a new body. double new?
speaking of double, he does a double-take when he sees her writing. a little startled:]
Wait– what's that? Those aren't...[he leans forward, squinting at them.] What letters are those?