Times have moved on somewhat, but back when I was little Russian was not a tongue for the fashionable houses. Why just pronouncing wish as vish could get you hauled over the communist coals. Let alone being a communist and a fag. Darling, it would be unthinkable.

[He peers over Byerly's lifted hand, the luminescence of the little insect making everything glow.]

So I would love to learn. [And, echoing something Byerly had said of him earlier, but turning it to a new angle-] All these offers to teach me things. Maybe you have a missed calling, too.

[Taking a breath - blame his fuzzy lungs, or something. for where his oxygen's gone - he clasps a hand round By's wrist.]

And, speaking of callings - if I had wings, I know what I'd like best.

[A small movement, and it's tiny dancing star in the air between them.]