The young man that was floating in front of the fridge (drinking milk right from the carton) put the carton back in and flew out of the kitchen slightly when he saw her and her elf trail passing by.
It was...actually pretty funny. In the past he might have chuckled but laughter didn't come easily to him now. The tendency to express feelings of any kind, happy, sad, whatever, had been pretty much beaten out of him by his "training."
Still, he was free from that now, and that meant that even though he didn't laugh or smile, there was a bit of a twinkle to his eye.
"Hey, kiddo, is there some kinda holiday going on that I don't know about? You know, since you're leading the elf parade." He looked at the elves trailing behind her. "When are the floats coming? We're still gonna have Snoopy this year, right?"
His joking was a little rusty but it was better than nothing.
He flew out in the air above her, in such a way that suggested that he was more comfortable flying than walking, as if he'd been born with the ability. (In a way, he had, even if he'd technically never been born.)
He cut a slightly intimidating figure with that severe crew cut and all those muscles, but even if he was a particularly large teenager, he was still obviously a teenager, no older than eighteen or nineteen, dressed in normal teenager clothing - jeans, black boots, and a plain black t-shirt.
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It was...actually pretty funny. In the past he might have chuckled but laughter didn't come easily to him now. The tendency to express feelings of any kind, happy, sad, whatever, had been pretty much beaten out of him by his "training."
Still, he was free from that now, and that meant that even though he didn't laugh or smile, there was a bit of a twinkle to his eye.
"Hey, kiddo, is there some kinda holiday going on that I don't know about? You know, since you're leading the elf parade." He looked at the elves trailing behind her. "When are the floats coming? We're still gonna have Snoopy this year, right?"
His joking was a little rusty but it was better than nothing.
He flew out in the air above her, in such a way that suggested that he was more comfortable flying than walking, as if he'd been born with the ability. (In a way, he had, even if he'd technically never been born.)
He cut a slightly intimidating figure with that severe crew cut and all those muscles, but even if he was a particularly large teenager, he was still obviously a teenager, no older than eighteen or nineteen, dressed in normal teenager clothing - jeans, black boots, and a plain black t-shirt.