Snorting faintly, Kalesh merely shook his head and continued. On all but one piece he deepened the cut at the bottom to bring out the shape of lips, and he extended a vertical slit upward to accentuate the resemblance. Smiling to himself, on Mara’s necklace, which was the middle-sized one, he made the spread cuts at the top of each tapering lozenge deeper and denser to mimic that heavy black thatch of hers, always so good to smell, and so rapid to juice up inside whenever little Pon reached in and dug it smirkingly open for him to use. On Pon’s smaller necklace he left the hair-like carving sparse and delicate, like the feather-soft golden strands upon her own mound. Finally, for the centerpiece of his own necklace, he rubbed more determinedly to narrow the thing about the middle such that
