Supposedly, [Illarion echoes, turning his head a little as if he could regard Iskierka where she's pressed close against his cheek. She looks toward him in turn, ruffling her plumage and warbling a comment.

Leshonki were creatures of song and story and symbolism among shrikes, but what this particular shadow of one meant in reference to her Sleeper as yet eludes him.

Or he's yet to ask the right question about that meaning, for fear of the answer.] Though what it is they are saying may be varied and distant as our homes.

[Both Sleeper and Omen return their attention completely to Lazarus as he announces he's hit on a name, elaborates his reasoning. It is a bit of showmanship Illarion appreciates, even as part of him wonders whether it's intended or a fortunate consequence of how the man reasons aloud.

He shakes his head at the offered bottle; the scent is enough, and better he not taint a potential trade good. His reward for all of this is information, and the name.

I like Moonsight.]

Ahhh. [A breath of an appreciative noise.] This is a good name, and well-reasoned. I will carry it with me gladly.