<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Magic users in this part of the world were common enough, even if proper White Mages were few and in-between. Most saw little use for a job so focused on defending and healing, when other mages could summon pets to do such things for them while slewing an array of offensive spells in a beasts face. When put in comparison to a profession such as a Scholar or Thanturmage, White Mages weren't exactly in high demand in adventurer guilds. When the monk would examine her, her composure should reveal nothing but that she was an unassuming, normal magician. <br/><br/>Being a foreigner herself, Minafaela didn't recognize the amnesiac. But she did recognize the telltale signs of a talented fighter. The muscle, scars of experience and trial. The way Naga spoke, very honestly and straightforward, was the simplicity of warriors who remained untouched by the hands of chivalry and civility. It brings a smile to her face, as he asks her decision on answering the call. At first, the witch doesn't reply. The bramble of the town outskirts is thick, and the path they took wasn't one she was completely familiar with, so she had to pay attention. Upon seeing the familiar trail that lead through the safer parts of the wood, she sighed to herself. <br/><br/>"Oh! I'm known as Minafaela. I'm... going to answer this call, if they'll accept me." If there was any kind of test to prove their skills as adventurers, she would likely fail. Her offensive magic was <em>destructive</em> and not optimal if there were any other magicians on board with this. And there were no real ways to test the talents of a healer on the fly, unless someone injured themselves. The mage wraps a hand around her wrist, slowly calming her thoughts as they proceed towards the clearing. The thick of the woods begins to fan out, as trees become sparse and in-between. In the distance, a massive dias with archaic etchings upon its wood, and tall throne-like chairs can be seen. She took a gentle breath, letting the sensation of the forests magic calm her. <br/><br/>"And... we're here. Not really <em>that</em> bad of a trek, now that I think about it. But I've known people to get turned around in the woods, only to wind up as a treant's lunch." She pauses here, realizing the implication and insult. "N-not that *you* would end up as food for any beast, Naga. You seem capable enough to fight off a few beasts, at the very least." She stumbles over her words a bit, and it's almost endearing how earnest her demeanor seems to be. Even if this isn't something she'd normally do, she's trying. By <em>god</em>, she's trying.<br/></span>