"You know," Huinesoron said, "I don't actually remember using Hebrew."

"Doesn't matter," Desdendelle replied. He waved a hand carelessly. "If you did, it would be terrible."

"I didn't use Marain, either," the Elf pointed out.

"Your Swahili is also a disaster," Desdendelle told him, grinning. He ignored the Elf's latest comment as irrelevant. "And I'd hate to see you try talking to Teapot, I don't think it would end well."

Huinesoron crossed his arms. "Oh, you think so, do you?"

The soldier nodded. "Your French is wrong, your Hebrew is worse, and your Marain is even more wrong than both of them combined--"

"I never actually used Hebrew or--"

"So why should your Tea-Whistling be any better?"

For a minute, there was silence. Then, the Elf said, "I don't think you're quite being fair, Desdendelle."

"Oh?"

"No," Huinesoron said flatly. "In fact, you're being downright cruel."

The soldier only grinned, and spun a teacup around in his hand. "Well, maybe I am...but in that case, what are you going to do about it?"

"This," said the Elf, and moved forward. Several seconds later, the teacup fell to the floor.

"מעול×"," Desdendelle said. It came out rather muffled. "Keep doing that."

Huinesoron paused. "...I have no idea what you just said."

"Wow," replied the soldier, laughing. "Your Hebrew really is that bad!"

"שתוק," Huinesoron retorted, and proceeded to make him.