The stance of a guardian does not escape Ajora's notice and a pleased smile affixes itself on his face. It is as warm and amiable as he ever is in the open. Genuine in this moment as well.

"Come, let us make for the holy mountain. You will wish to prepare yourself for what is to come." Quiet and hushed, his Esper whispers in his mind where to look next, where they should go. Indeed, it makes the best of sense and the mortal vessel wonders that he did not think of it himself. "Though ere we seek the next place of pilgrimage, I shall be required to attend the bedside of a dying child."

The peril of being given the gift of foresight: knowing what is to come and being powerless to stop it.