Here, in the forest? Would that we had some means of tracking the nearest.

[ He turned and drifted around Cain as he spoke, returning the favor, brushing off his shirt. A tiny bright feather .clung to his back. Aymeric offered it to him over his shoulder, and rested his chin on the crown of Cain's head.

The Bond wasn't like what he had with Francel, where every flicker of emotion felt like an intrusion, something he should politely pretend he hadn't felt, though he was used to it, now. This was easy, guiltless, like an open hand. ]

I don't suppose you've been practicing divination in secret, as well?