[Wing's lean isn't alarming, but it is enough to have Sam appreciate his steadying hand over her lap. She hold her own hands up at Irja's laughter, smiling herself.]

I'm not normally this exacting, and I don't need or want the whole bird, just a fair-sized feather. It's to try and write home with. There's a-uh, ritual which might let me manage.

[It's strange to say it out loud, and to only-acquaintances, but hell. One of them's a little farming fairy, and the other's a knight now known to make nice with dragons. Surely, her minor magics won't be too big a deal.]