[There's very little the two of them can't do without stirring some memory, here or there. Yuan takes the silence for what it is: an offered peace.]

[Eventually snipping at each other returns.]

I despair of luxurious with you. I will settle for not looking like it's about to eat your head. You shouldn't resemble a mandragora, Kratos.

Can you lean far enough back for me to rinse your hair without hurting yourself again?

[It falls short of acerbic.]