"Are you implying that I ought to seek him out and fuss at him for being quite so insensibly dressed? This is not the North, Benevenuta." She says with a sigh, the last brushes of magic smoothing away the ache of travel and drink. Attention now thoroughly diverted Adelaide turns from her desk to peer down at her, brow faintly quirked. The next waft of magic from her fingers is a low pulse of warmth that should spread and sooth a chilled body after so much time in the wind. "While I do not mean to think you delicate; it is not weather one rides or walks about with one's chest out. You are going to lose skin should you continue to do so and I will not mend it."

Not for such foolishness.

But the swipe of her thumb, the faintly fond twist of her lips says otherwise. "Tell me you did not burn anything while camping drunk."