How it is they are able to do that, the siphoning- is beyond my scope of understanding and disconcerting for it. Not that they can- but what it is they might do with it.

[She frowns, sighs, and shakes her head. There is nothing she can do to change it, fix it, or even understand it at the moment. She lets the matter rest and the lingering anxiety brought on by the thought go.]

Weary, but well. It shall remain thus until the last of the tree limbs are finally trimmed down and sorted.