[Kratos's last forceful words were a bad idea, it turns out, as they set up a pound in his stuffy head. He has a hand pressed to his eyes and temple as Yuan removes the handcuff, and groans his answer, about as whining as he's ever been -- and not for centuries.]

Yes.

[He raises his head a bit, his hand grazing his cheek, and then pauses, fingers brushing shaven skin. Yuan gets a red-rimmed glare, made all the more unhappy with Kratos's general air of misery.]

You shaved my beard.

[It's an accusation, but not really a surprised one. Just extraordinarily grumpy.]