“Your brother must be a piece of work. The only other people I’ve ever heard you talk like that about are Tokorellans.”
“My half-brother, actually. Son of my mother’s first husband. And in terms of dislike, I’m much more tolerant of Tokorellans than dear Yokosh.” She punched Permac lightly on the arm. “Especially one particular Tokorellan.”
Permac punched her arm back softly. She knew it wasn’t a gesture he was familiar with, but it implied a sort of camaraderie—or so Linsora had told him many a time. He’d told her he was willing to learn to curse and punch but had decided not to take up spitting.
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