"I have become fond of it as of late." Difficult to not when the woman in question's very name is Ruby, when red becomes warmth and comfort and home rather than blood and anger. For a moment she allows herself this reminder, that she has someone to come back to that has missed her, that would speak with her if she called and think noting of her strangeness-

Someone that understands the strangeness and awkwardness and admires her all the same. "Yes- it seemed fitting."

Leather is not something she wears often, but it is Ruby's and that? Makes it worth wearing. Herian's promise drives her out of pleased reverie, fondness easing into vague amusement. "It is far more likely that I shall prove unworthy of her. I have long held that romantic entanglement is unwise for mages and am...out of practice with such tenderness."