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Posted: Tue Mar 07, 2017 2:22 pm
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Eve's expression noticeably dimmed at Ezra's answer. She gently reached out to take the small photograph back and looked at it intently, her thumb tracing the outline of Dylan's face.
It got quiet for some time, as it often did for the two of them. Eve sat with her picture and her tea, finishing her second cup and one-handedly pouring herself a third. There was obviously a lot on her mind. For once, though, it had nothing to do with magic or the cycles or the cage, and only a little to do with Ezra.
After a few long minutes, Eve looked up to to her son again, giving him an ambiguous little smile.
"I don't think you two would have gotten along well, anyhow," she joked - or the expression she wore implied a joke in her statement. Turning the picture and setting it down so Dylan was grinning up at Ezra from on top of one of his many books, their mother tapped purposefully at the side of Dylan's head. "The cochlear implant." Her smile gained more sincerity as she recollected. "It only gives you a fraction of a human's potential hearing range, so any of your compositions or performances would sound just awful to him. One of his first sign poems was about how music is a sham."
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