His voice carried in the realm the same way it carried outside — the flat, present, Nascent Soul Mid Stage ambient carry of someone whose voice did not need to perform.
They looked at him.
"Tight," he said. 'simple." He paused. "With easy access."
He said the last two words the way he said everything — the flat, clinical, completely un-performed delivery of a man stating a specification.
One of the women raised her hand.
The flat, present, slightly-forward raise of a woman who had information and was offering it.
He looked at her.
"I know how to stitch," she said. "I have done it since I was eight years old."
He noted her. Eye of Truth filed: Core Formation Mid, mid-twenties, the woman who had been at position six in the second twelve's line. Her name — he had not asked. He had not asked most of their names. He had asked one.
"Good," he said.
He gestured at the forest.
