[Being offered a seat is...odd. As is being called 'mr. elf' as though he had some form of standing. Whatever place this was, with it's guns and strange lighting, Zev isn't sure he knows what to make of it just yet. But. He sits and tucks his legs up under him out of habit.]
Zevran, Zev to my friends. [He shrugs, keeps his head low.] None, Ser.
no subject
Zevran, Zev to my friends. [He shrugs, keeps his head low.] None, Ser.