<I would ask if you simply knew, but I don't know that I would trust that.> Dry voiced, Alloran crooks fingers in a gesture he only halfway remembers. Obviously it is in doubt whether anything the spirit cares to show him is truly accurate, but if he travels too far along that trail he'll be lost in stinging thorns for a long time.

He closes all of his eyes for a moment and draws his tail through a slow arc, plants his hooves so that his weight is evenly distributed on all four, and sings a note of displeasure and resignation. It's a shivery, unpleasant feeling, with a chaser very reminiscent of a human rolling up their sleeves.

<If you would, then. I am prepared.>