[ Something of a laugh escapes him in a huff. She isn't wrong. ] Are you saying I lack the charm?

[ Wouldn't be the first time he's been told such. He stretches his arm out so she can pillow her head on him, his hand dropping back down to rest in her hair afterwards. He studies her ceiling, the steady lights that illuminate the room, compared to the flickering flames he's used to. Most of him has relaxed some, compared to when he first showed up at her door. ]

We call them Witcher Signs. Simplified spells. [ The most simplified that a spell can be, with a minimal use of power. And not especially flashy. When he lifts his free hand to demonstrate, all she will sense is a light hum of magic and a faint distortion in the air above them. A barrier. To a proper mage, it likely only just barely passes as a real spell. It's more than suited for someone like him, though. ] We were tutored under priestesses. I collapsed a section of the temple once.