(--)
Ithiel is by me!
Although her questions were strange to Ithiel, he answered them all the same, ruminating on his answer before he chose to spoke, as was his custom. He also recalled each of her questions in turn and answered them completely, as was also his custom. Ithiel did not like to leave such things undone, and he always strove to provide the most complete and correct information when requested -- even if, in this case, he didn't believe there was a right answer to at least part of her questions. Myrika lives in the Great Village. Vesper lives in the caves, he said. I don't think there's any right time, though -- just go when you'd like. Neither of them are really strict or snappish.
As for messengers -- there's Sparrow, who serves as our Tribunus, but you needn't speak through her. Go to them yourself, he said, unaware of Sparrow's reduction in duty as of yet. Her touch at his shoulder was strange, but he did not wish to be impolite and flinch away, so he held himself together and even attempted the faintest touch of a smile for her. Women were the more emotional creatures, and it was their wont to touch and make contact and ascertain all was well. Perhaps if he had been a different coyote, he might have felt something at the bird's death -- but there was only resounding agreement for her words within Ithiel. If you'd like to help, it'd be welcome. He looked around, shrugging. We can go to the mansion or stay here. Either is acceptable. We'll leave the corpse for the carrion birds and cats, he suggested.
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