Brin is only too happy to pick up her plates and join the Lord Mayor on his end of the massive feasting table. The platters withing easy reach of her original seat had been well picked-over by that point. She makes her way over, and only the fact that her hand are already full prevents her from reaching over shoulder and between elbows to grab choice tidbits during the trip.

"That's right." She says, plopping down in the proffered spot. ", Lord Mayor." Clearly the man was trying to be oblique about it for some reason. There was no way he didn't know about all the information that had been gathered--bought in blood and worse--but here we was yammering about communication problems.

Well, Brin could be subtle if she tried, hadn't overindulged. Which she might have. The only way to judge was to plow forward and see if she wound up gnawing on her foot. "We're as interested in timely reply as anyone. I'd been considering a trip out that way regardless, and wouldn't mind offering my service as courier."