To say that Viloet was supersticious was... an understatement. They liked to say that magic was everywhere, and indeed she had heard many stories but saw it in practice very rarely. And for every wonderous tale of raw earth-rending displays of reality warping, there was a joke or a story told around mugs of ale about wizards who irreversibly polymorphed themselves by accident, novice mages attempting spells that only backfired horribly. This was all the unintentional misfortunes brought about by toying with the laws of reality as a cat would a ball of yarn.<br/><br/>The halfling was downright cowering with wide eyes as the orb hovered over her, casting a magical glow upon her skin and giving the mess itself a rather colorful reflective shine. She didn't know what to expect, wincing in fear as all the messy goo departed from her skin. Not the only thing the orb had removed, but it was certaintly the most pressing issue at hand.<br/><br/>'Triple?' She thought briefly (and silently) as she turned her head back to regard Terrance, "I... don't suppose that's<em>all</em>she's capable of?" She asked sultrily, disguising her fear of the woman's powers with a libidinous interest in its' finer applications.