There is a small, crooked smile in response to innuendo, listing a little back on his heels in a way that pulls her in just that little bit closer. He is not above making use of this little stolen moment of privacy. The phantom impulse to tug closed the door with an absent tail comes and goes.

Distraction. His focus returns, at her question. "No," he says. "I can't even say that I taught myself, at first, it all seemed to come so naturally. But in time, I found a book or two on sorcery. Nothing that explained much beyond a few simple spells."

He raises a hand, finding a loose lock of her hair to toy with. "Perhaps I can run you through what I know, you can tell me if it's heretical."