Hythlodaeus noticed Meteion staring off in one direction, head tilted and an expression of concern on her delicate face, but not intense enough to be worry. He casted his eyes in that direction, and, ah, there he was, Azem's... no, Mikh'tan was not a familiar, for all the cover story they were using. Nor a shadow. The aether was Azem's, only thinner, so he assumed it was some form of Azem, and yet not quite. Certainly not one that knew him and Emet-Selch the way he should, and, yet...

Hythlodaeus's steps were soft and regular as he made his way there, finding Mikh'tan deep in thought. So Hythlodaeus set down the cup of tea next to him gently.

"Come, have something warm and nice."

Hythlodaeus couldn't see emotions, but he could see there was much that Mikh'tan was holding at bay that troubled him. So, he thought, it was time to help a little.