[Maybe it is magic, she thinks, watching the wings fold into nothingness. But this is not her area of expertise, so it's not really something she thinks to ask about. There are more important matters at hand than wasting time with something she knows she won't understand.

She cracks a small, proud smile at the mention of her raven, and reaches to stroke the bird's feathers.]

Sýnin has more freedom than I or you will ever know. [Not only in the matter of flight -- which Sam is obviously acquainted with -- but she doesn't have or even comprehend the responsibilities of mankind.]

I doubt your machine is from the Adamant. Rémi is reluctant to let even rain shields go.