"Who among us is tormented more than the Profane?"

It is so bewildering a question that Vervain cannot make heads nor tails of what Tuo means by it. He lets his friend direct his hands, takes the tea and manages an obedient, stuttering drink of it.

"Shouldn't we be?" he asks, his voice small and defeated and swallowed up almost entirely in the sounds of Dain's arrival.

The surge of renewed shame to hear the Shepherd covering for him nearly makes him drop the cup in the urge to hide beneath his cloak once more. Yet--yet with Dain here, that means his time really is up, and he's got to be brave and decided in this one act at least. That's why Dain had revealed the truth so gently, wasn't it?

To give him the chance to do the right thing?

Vervain swallows hard and sets his tea down gently as he can. "Thank you, Shepherd. But I won't need 'til tomorrow to decide."