[As if in response to Nehan's change in posture, the shrike relaxes his own--leaning back, resting his arms on the edge of the pool behind him again so his hands are visible.

Gently,] I have offered supplies, protection, and my good word with the Pthumerians. To it I might add blood and knowledge, and all my other skills of hand and tongue. The only thing I cannot offer is my body, [with an apologetic little shrug,] for sooner or late I will again be a thing dead, and no one would bed that.

Though if you wish to dissect it instead, that might be arranged.

What is it you need? Ask.