"It doesn't," she counters easily, her smile small and sad but still ever-present. It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter. "What can you gain from knowing? And, more importantly...What could I possibly gain? It seems in this exchange, I only lose, while you win. That hardly seems fair to me."

But she looks away in the direction of her room--or more important, the direction of the mirror she keeps carefully wrapped up in the fabric of her old dress. Then she sighs and shakes her head, looking to him again.

"Unfortunately, not much. I was informed it was, somehow, safest with me, and could be terribly dangerous--for the individual--if it ended up in their hands. And that it's not supposed to hear the wind." So Winnie has kept it carefully hidden. "It whispers, sometimes... But I can't understand what it says. The merchant informed me that to know it would mean it knows me, and that was 'a fate worse than death.' I suppose it will become useful at some point, but for now I've been keeping it safely tucked away."