Vandelin chuckles obligingly at the bit of physical comedy. There's never a bad time to appreciate a pun, is there? Of course not.

It's all surely not an uncommon sight for their spectator, and he wishes he could get a message to her somehow, it's not what it seems, it's all right, save up your worry for the next time--but he doesn't remember that kind of code. He breaks the woman's gaze before Melys does.

"Oh, this?" He gives the staff a lazy twirl, managing only by long years of muscle memory not to drop it--concussions are stubborn things, healing or no. "You work your way up high enough in the Circle ranks, and they're pretty standard-issue."

I'm no apprentice, if you must take on a mage. It doesn't seem like a moment for subtlety.