Ranata emerges from the kitchen. "Fish in the oven. Now, I'm pretty sure this isn't any native English speaker accent - you're not from America or Canada and you're not non-rhotic - so unless that's a red herring for some reason... Did you just travel a lot as a child?"
He's probably going to have to explain that. That'll be fun.
"Sore subject?" wonders Ranata gently.
His mother, too, but he cares less about her.
Isabella tucks herself under Adarin's arm and hugs him again.
Vernaia snuggles back. "It's alright. We just miss him, sometimes."
"Maybe after we figure out immortality we'll figure out resurrection," sighs Path.
"Hmm. Maybe somewhere in Europe where you would have been able to pick up a lot of languages that would all influence your accent in English? Switzerland?"
"That would be nice," Vern says wistfully. "We'd help in any way we can, just like the other things."
"So are you," says Vernaia affectionately, nuzzling back.
"English isn't his native language, he picked it up as an adult," explains Isabella. "Pretty recently. While in Canada, actually."
Adarin snickers, a little. Message received, he'll try and avoid telling them about magic. "It was fun," he says, brightly.
"Don't give me too many hints now. I don't think you sound Chinese, but maybe there's a dialect I've never heard before that would leave this kind of accent?"
When he hears it.
(Path laughs softly.)