Felix Caelus

Harrow warned him to be wary here. Felix is very much bracing himself for some kind of onslaught when he reaches out to seek the blades. The longer he waits in the stifling silence, the more desperately he strains to find any sign of them, squelching his uncertainty. You must be here. Are you listening?

When he does, finally, become sure of their presence it takes another minute to guess that perhaps this is how they communicate, through this near-subconscious impression of what they mean. He doesn't, of course, realize how direct or how subtle the suggestions truly are.

I offer a gift, he says as an opening. And in exchange I ask leniency, and patience for your bearer. Two concepts he's quite aware he may have to sell them on.