He doesn't have to verbally say it, she thinks, but it's on her for not being clear enough, and if words work for him, it's what it is. She isn't going to rush him, isn't going to step in unless he wants her to. All the movement, the centering - that's just to get him in the right mindset, something she knows like her own breathing but understands that he doesn't.

That moment, that shift in the air, it's something she knows happened by his reaction, and she smiles when she looks at him.

"Something you know, right? It's not a stranger, even if we're doing new things."

Her oldest friend, leaping to her instinct and willpower, intertwined with her so closely. Something she reached for, and found it reaching back. There are those who see it more mechanically, she knows, but Fever has never not felt it when she casts.