Tuktu Weir queen of numbers

"what makes you think i didn't?" he served back, commanding his body into grueling movement once more to slink a hair closer to the merle dryad. there was a distinct lack of concern behind her questioning and he parsed she was the judicious type--suspicious, but not to any neurotic extent. in the privacy of his mind, he turned over whether this one was more thorn than petal.
"he found me, in my piteous, weak state, and showed me mercy by leaving me only slightly worse for it." absalom explained, exaggerating limpness as he shifted his weight.