[ Immediately drawn by the new toy, Lucci heaves himself up- rolling like a chubby little elf ball, to stretch and reach for that dangling pendant. Every swipe comes with it's own bright, gurgling squeal. Adorable the first few times- but it quickly becomes tiresome. Zevran's glazed, weary eyes probably are proof enough of this truth. ]

You are not teaching my son your bad habits. [ There's still that moment of hesitance before he says 'my son'. There likely always would be. This? This is not something he ever saw for himself. Not in truth. Not in any way that he'd have to live with it for long. ] He does not need words to ask. He points and grunts meaningfully often enough.