[ It says something for how new to this Zevran is, how uncertain that even when it is Alistair doing the sweeping and the scooping- he starts, scrambling upright, hand outstretched as though to catch or clutch away. Playing is one thing. Sudden movements another- but the offer is made and it is one that...he can get behind. He is weary, he cannot continue to watch Lucci while so exhausted not safely.

His hand falls back to the bed and he crumples, curling around a pillow. A little shifting and tucking has him propped up somewhat, facing them, good eye giving him a solid view of the three of them on the floor. ]

He grabs, he's teething and if he starts to gnaw upon his hands and cry there are chilled rags treated with mint oil and honey in the wooden chest on my desk. If he is hungry there is a list of what is best for him also on my desk- lately he has taken to mashed up apple quite well. He rubs his eyes and starts to tug on his hair when he's tired but too cranky to actually nap-