[He sees it there he thinks, that moment of pulsing tension. Half expects the other man to turn on him, to launch a second attack of his own. His body stiffens accordingly, eyes slightly wide, face guilt-lined--

--but then there's only that stiff little dismissal, and Julian swipes a taloned hand back through his dark-feathered crest.]

Well um, if you're quite sure.

[He clears his throat, pretends to casts his gaze out and over the crowd down below, past the Witches shoulder. Eyes him askance.]

But don't worry about that. I'm certainly not worried. I'm always fine, me. Although...if I really were to wake up in some strange place, if I was expected to defend the resident Witches...I suppose I could look into it. Getting some kind of formal training.

[Just slightly, he frowns.]

I do think my efforts would be best spent finding a cure for that sickness you were talking about. More up my alley, that. But whatever the case, of course I'd do what I can for anyone who needed me, in any capacity.