The change in her face doesn't escape him, but he is—for one reason or another—used to people looking at him funny. Some people don't like Wardens; some people don't like him; and he said something, just now, which always exponentially increases the potential reasons she could be looking at him that way. If he knew how to stop saying things that made people look at him like he was mad or stupid or confusing—

No, he probably wouldn't stop. Never mind.

"You didn't miss much," he says, grabbing hold of that watered-down humor. "A lot of net throwing and screaming. The most useless lesson I've ever had, honestly, and I had to memorize the Chant."

That part is true, at least. He did memorize the Chant. If there had been raven-catching lessons it probably would have been more fun, if not more useful. He eyes the flock and grins down and sideways at her—as friendly as he'd be with any other complete stranger who wasn't trying to kill him.

"Barrier is smart, though. Like a magic net. I see why they made you Grand Enchanter."