Belle blinks as he refuses her shawl. She makes to insist upon him taking it when he pulls out what looks like an elegant stick and waves it. She watches as, in seemingly no time at all, he appears to dry himself. The sight itself is not shocking to her; not after the enchanted castle and all the inhabitants within it. And of course, not after a city seemingly brought her into the future by magic.

Instead, she's intensely curious.

"Are you an enchanter, then?" She asks. "I don't think I've seen anyone work magic." Especially not out in broad daylight. That sort of thing would likely incur pitchforks and torches in her small village.

"Used to being bruised?" She arches her eyebrow at him again. "Is that your way of saying you get into trouble a lot?"