[ Byerly sits as Cree greets him. He takes pains to look comfortable and relaxed, legs crossed at the knee, leaning back with a casual smile. But his eyes are bright and watchful, and he's arranged in such a way that he can push off from his seat at a moment's notice - elbow braced to give himself leverage, left foot flat on the floor. It's absurd, of course: he may well have walked into a lion's den, and if they decide he's dinner, holding his stick tighter won't let him fight them off. But it makes him feel better.

In response to that greeting: ]

Ah, the whole world runs on the exchange of favors. I certainly don't mind scratching a few backs if it means I can have my own itches soothed.

[ But: no wasting time. This handsome fellow is, no doubt, not someone who has a great deal of it to spare. So By immediately settles into his questioning, asking: ]

I've heard you're a fellow who knows about matters both high and low. Tell me, what was all that with Simwe and Shanrian? They seem to have quite the history, and such deep emotions.