[ The sound of violin strikes sharp, like a warning, though he does not raise his bow again. It reverberates loud through the open expanse of his mind, catching on the edges of the many invisible links between them all. ]

How silly a thing you were told. Of course it is from back home - Carbausch.

[ He doesn't pry into the boy's mind, but aside from the note there's a nudge. Gentle, careful - they are out in the open, and don't know who else might be observing. Gildor has already learned that the hard way. ]

Unless you are from another group of those along on this great pilgrimage? [ He asks, leaning further into the role expected of them. If he wants honest conversation, he'll either need to be very clever or use the new little asset in his head. ]