"I... suspect that not all powers are the same from prime to prime," says Sarelle. "But I have very little information about that particular case."
"The primes who coexisted with her suspected she could detect lies. She was apparently obvious enough about that, at least with them."
"It's possible. Especially since as far as they could tell she didn't have a range limit on that, so she must have worked somewhat differently."
It seems Sarelle is one of those people who, when she has nothing to say, says nothing.
Some time later, after several carefully planned turns, Sarelle pauses as they come to a cross street.
"Hm," she says. "Hunti."
And she faces into the light breeze and keeps walking.
"They turn up as souls," she says, a little distractedly. "Just not, for the most part, elemental ones. I might compare it to the difference between a cup of tea and a cup of warm water that has had some tea leaves dipped in it."
"Huh. When Soechins and Thiyecines stumbled into my range I tended to find them harder to read," she volunteers. "Haven't had any informative accidents with Malinquans yet, but it's convenient in its way, since they won't understand me if I tell them to back off - at least not why; they might get the picture that I'm antisocial."
"Interesting," Sarelle murmurs. "Books... we are pursuing a scholar, I believe, or a librarian. Something of that nature. Only one. The other has not been here in some time. At least a week, but I suspect longer."
And then, after a few more minutes of following this new trail, she nods indicatively—
—at a young man of about their age or a little older, emerging from a building across the street and some distance ahead, who is quite possibly even more blatantly sweela than Sarelle herself is blatantly hunti.
"Not in the slightest," she says, smiling. "He is very sweela for a hunti, but he is hunti nevertheless, and prime."