Nor had Fion, who moved closer to her progenitor. She had not yet spoken to me nor I to her but she watched me closely. It was a way not unknown to me and not unpleasant because it marked a spirit devoted to her calling. Fion was attempting to learn from me what she could though it be the merest, barest surface since I had not agreed to be her guide. She could not ask me.
        If she possessed the respect for me worthy of 1 who wished to be prepared then she could not ask. She could do no more than request that 1 or both of her givers speak to me. I had no way of knowing whether she thought I awaited a petition from the Progenitor. I could not know if she had spoken with the Progenitor requesting her to petition me or if Fion had as an alternate method requested intercession with the Progenitor from Vryyh. I knew only that her dark eyes were on me and they were on me learning. Every move or lack thereof, every stance, each stage in progression, each word, cast of eye, expression, Fion was recording, assessing, and filing away. But it was only the surface. There was no depth and none of the vital connections. She was taking the scraps because they were all which were available to her.