[Marsh tilts his head, in his particular bird-like way, so that the spikes can stare at Cassel straight on. He reaches up a hand, not to remove the strange item, but just to feel it, lightly. A circle of flimsy strips elevated on thin wires. Perplexing.]
WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THIS?
[Was that his voice. What. That. It sounded like roaring waterfalls and the wind in the very tops of trees and the thrum of the deepest bell in a carillon. It sounded like thunder and single raindrops; meaningful and powerful and unspeakably gentle. And, strangely, it felt very much like it was his own.]
spam
WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THIS?
[Was that his voice. What. That. It sounded like roaring waterfalls and the wind in the very tops of trees and the thrum of the deepest bell in a carillon. It sounded like thunder and single raindrops; meaningful and powerful and unspeakably gentle. And, strangely, it felt very much like it was his own.]