It’s funny that we humans (or at least I) have this habit of commanding or coaxing inanimate objects when trying to move them. [E.g. tugs on stuck cable Me: C’mon, get over here...”] -- TheDragonsFlame
Toveth was a shopkeeper on the Edge Territories, and got to see a lot more of the Deathworlders that inhabited the outskirts of civilised space. The humans were the most confusing. As Deathworlders, they ranged from anywhere between large and intimidating to small and really intimidating.
Anyone with any sense in the Edge Territories knew - beware of the small and quiet ones. They may not have the most threatening silhouette, but they could be unexpectedly deadly. And Humans kept proving this to anyone who was silly enough to not take a good warning when they heard one.
But there was one thing that Humans had in common. No matter their origins. No matter their hue. No matter their culture. No matter how long they had been rubbing elbows with other species. Every single Human who came to trade. Every single Human that Toveth shared air with. Talked. To inanimate. Objects.
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