"'Siad' and 'siaddaki' and 'shren' and 'shrennaki', so I can see what Draconic really thinks of them," he says. "Ooh. Candy. Thank you."
"That's terrible," he says. "That's completely—um. Here. I'll just." He does nothing obvious, but then he says: "'Shrennaki', try that," and it is definitely a word in definitely a language that bears a strong resemblance to Draconic but expresses no intrinsic opinions about shrens.
"I made a magical language with a lot of properties in common with Draconic, including its whole vocabulary to start with, excluding Draconic's terrible opinions, and made myself its first attached speaker, and 'shrennaki' just sort of happened automatically. If you would like to be attached to it too, you can do that, it is compatible with your magic."
Lazarus vanishes away.
"The crisis is very thoroughly over," says Mark, in case anyone was still in doubt about that.
"No kidding," Mial agrees, hugging Finnah hard. "Shrennaki. Damn that feels good."
"No kidding. Wow." He wipes his face. On Mark's sleeve. "Um. Sorry for having a complete breakdown, everybody."
"Am I allowed to talk yet?" asks Ivan plaintively.
"Yes, fine, whatever," says Aurin.
"Well, that was exhausting."
"Yep," says Finnah. "Back to work I go." She ruffles Mial's hair so some of it stands up and traipses out.
"...okay," she says, looking around warily. "I'm confused. Confused is what I am."
"Bar?" asks Linya. "Who is this?"
This is an alt of Mark.
"An entire alt of Mark?"
Yes.
"Congratulations, Mark."