No, Gabranth fails to notice much in that moment, save for the warmth found in his own meager satisfaction at the thought she did not abhor the experience.

He moves to stand. To return to collecting the armament satchel he’d strung across Loghain, striding slowly back towards marked trees— and thankful he’d had the sense to notch them, as the clearing does indeed appear otherwise laced with pervasive same-ness.

“Learning to control such powers was a much less enjoyable task, for a blade is far more forgiving in failure. Yet if you do not dislike it, I would do so again— perhaps with a different element of your choosing.”

Aside from the void. That magic is never pleasant, not even for the invoker.