He looked at their names. His name. The first time he'd ever seen it before. And in that moment, he knew his first words. Elisabeth and Ezner. He smiled as he looked at them, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two. He memorized every line, every curve, of both names. And when she handed him the pencil, he took it gently, his hand shaking. His hands were growing sweaty as he lowered the pencil down to the paper. 

Ezner didn't really know how to begin, so he did his best to try and draw the letters, starting from left to write. He held a fist around the entire length of the pencil, moving his head a bit to the side so that he could see what he was writing beneath the fist. He had been paying so much attention to what Elisabeth had been writing, he hadn't thought to see how she wrote it. His fist slowly dragged the pencil tip across the paper, forming rough, jagged lines. The frustration was mounting on his face, because even though he was doing it slowly, carefully, it still looked almost nothing like what Elisabeth had written. It was crooked, in several places. It was about five times the size of what she'd written.

But still, he managed two somewhat replicate their names on the paper. And when he held it up, he could sort of see the similarities in what she wrote and what he had written. And he smiled. He was reading. He smiled at her, [b]"We already are."[/b]

Then looking back at the paper, [b]"So what letters are all these? There's the adult E's, the child B."[/b]