“You do not risk coming unprepared,” he acknowledges, examining the little scale where it rests upon his finger. The banging was concerning, yes, and the way Beleth inched towards him not unfounded in her caution, but he is not endowed with power enough to lecture or order change, so instead he simply takes the thing off his fingers and rests it in Beleth’s palm (with an apologetic glance, first) as he pulls his gloves and bracer back on.

Once more armored, he takes it back, looking over some of the finer detailing. “I am intrigued that you were able to attune it to the Fade.”

But a free hand is a free hand, and surely they do not need three scales, so after examining it with one last glance, he inclines his head politely and offers it back to the one he’s decided to call apothecary in his mother tongue. “I am grateful, but would prefer both my hands free.”