Octopodey

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Pel-Thenhior let me compose myself and then said defiantly, “I would be of comfort to thee if I could.” I was so startled at being thee’d I could barely speak. “Th … thou wouldst?” “Needst not sound so shocked,” he said, rather wryly. “I did not think that my regard for thee was any particular secret.” “I thought,” I started, then stopped myself. “No. It is no matter what I thought. I thank thee for thy kindness.”
Octopodey
You *two*
The Grief of Stones  (The Cemeteries of Amalo, #2)
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