If she'd been at all uncertain before as to Detlef's agitation, the pacing cinches it. There is something he wishes to know, something he is compelled to know- and she cannot recall enough of Rhys or this Evangeline to be of assistance. They were in the same Circle, to be certain, but she hadn't had a great many peers on the other floors. Her work was her own, her students her own, her mentors her own.

Everything neatly compartmentalized for better control.

A subtle tension winds its way through her shoulders the longer he paces- the tent not so large a space that he has far to go in either direction. One of them needs to keep a level head and for the first time in a fair while when faced with such a situation- she's genuinely tired of having to be that person. But- she breathes. Sips her tea. Locks it away. "There is nothing more that I know."

She won't apologize for it. The Spire had been what it had been. She had no hand in their association or lack thereof.

"Not as often since I have narrowed my focus to healing specifically. Compassion once could feel when one of their fellows was unwell or agitated. With the shift of our combined focus from a general sense of pain and distress to the physical so I might be a more precise healer; it has become more difficult. I would have to know what it is we are looking to mend." That is what Compassion does. Their purpose.