Taking the spool reverently from the Seer, Argo did his best to try and discern the differences between the three threads. He'd had some practice in the arts of scrying, though his ineptitude in such matters was plain before him now. To him the spools seemed to represent different paths, each one twisting and entwining itself to the others, each contributing towards a common, if confused, mass. "Forgive me Seer, but I can draw nothing of importance from it. These strands seem to represent the lives of various people, though how they interact and what will become of them I cannot say." In a way, Argo felt that he was already failing. Something as simple as this first task had clearly shown his training to be not up to the task at hand. Still, he couldn't let that deter him from future venture. 

Twisting over the massed threads in his hands, Argo's eyes once again turned to the fellow mystic, offering a question. "If the Seer does not mind, I would like to know what they think of it?" The shaman's hands offered the twisted web of threads back, fingers guiding the clump back onto the table before the Seer. Perhaps if he knew something of the Seer's methods it would be easier to determine the proper way to answer the problem.