[True enough that the situation's ideal for neither of them, but Illarion is better-equipped. The shrike gives a little huffing laugh.]

As you will.

[He takes up the comb again, sparing a moment to flex the fingers of both hands, before setting back to his task. It isn't so different from trying to comb a wiggly toddler's hair and he's been successful at that often enough.]

There is a Sleeper here, [he says, conversationally--once he's got the rhythm of his task,] a human, who advertises his services at this--grooming "non-humans".

[Gods black and white but that term grates with its reminder that humans are the overwhelming majority of Sleepers and the rest of them are just "other".]

He said to me once he is not much interested in prying into others' pasts.