"You sometimes sound very like Stark." The rue that colors her tone curls at one corner of Yseult's mouth for just long enough to be spotted in the blue-white glow from lyrium veins and Strange's staff. It's not precisely a compliment, but there's an undeniable tinge of fondness alongside the exasperation that keeps it well short of insult, whatever his personal opinion of Tony might be.

She swings arms out and back across her chest, rolling shoulders, limbering up. "Have you done this before?"