Whimsies by Grundy

Wallop

The crack of flesh meeting flesh with force echoed.

Nerdanel was out of her workshop and into the kitchen before whoever was responsible could flee. Tyelko was backing swiftly away from Moryo, whose face was a furious red betokening payback.

“Tyelkormo,” she said sternly. “You are no longer such a child that you can claim you didn’t know better than to hit your brother!”

“He started it,” Tyelko muttered resentfully, glaring at his little brother. “The brat.”

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

“Enough!” she thundered. “Tyelkormo, you can apologize later, when you actually mean it. For now, go to your room.”