There's usually some manner of relief that comes along with these spells. The easing of an ache, a slow surge of warmth, of comfort after so long on the road and long without? It's easy enough to understand and, more often than not, Adelaide ignores it in favor of finishing the job neatly. She hasn't expected quite such a visceral surge of it from this man, tight enough to catch in her throat.

Whatever the cause beyond isolation and travel, paranoia and caution held tight in the place of a companion or true means of warmth- it tugs at something in Adelaide's chest. A memory of her initial arrival; weary and afraid.

Words seem- there were words, things her mentors told her were appropriate to offer. Pithy comments about comfort and security. Kind things. Gentle things. She's never been terribly good with gentle things but does reach out to curl her actual fingers around her patient's hand. To squeeze it, a physical counterpoint to the magic she's weaving. "You are welcome. Truly."

Moving along in the conversation seems the most sensible option. "A few months, now. I came with my students from Andoral's Reach after I heard that mages were offered sanctuary here."