Glibly, the Fool demurs, "I have never been wise." After all, he is a Fool.

He gets up from his seat in front of the mirror and takes a moment to put away various bits of cosmetic and other accoutrements he'd been fiddling with throughout the morning, then slips behind the partition in his bedroom to finish dressing himself. "I don't intend to share my secrets with the Ban Om lightly," he says; there's the sound of fabric shifting and rustling. "I assume it isn't a common experience, the turtles choosing to commune with us little folk."