His hand stayed on hers.
As best he could, he ran through something annoyingly inelegant in his head, concentrated, and didn't seem to notice anything Extremely Obviously Mystical going on. Good. Seriously, Kristoff sometimes had a bit of a 'love the magicians, hate the magic' viewpoint.
He opened his eyes again, first looked at her, then peered out the window. "Cassandra, do you...?"
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