Magnus is totally content with silence. He rolls over to pick some more plants -- long, thin grasses, flowers with hollow and shredding stems, a wiry vine-like thing he doesn't immediately recognize -- and tries to practice what he'd learned about filigree with them It's hard. Plants are nothing like metal, and he has no way of forcing them to stay in place -- though he wonders, idly, if he could summon enough heat to melt metal into place, and then he takes a moment to marvel at the fact that he's been using his alf seidr so much more indiscriminately here than he does in the Nine Worlds. He likes it, though. Wild that peaceful innate Vanir magic is well-suited to times of peace.

The other thing about plants, Magnus is coming to realize, is that they're a lot bigger than tiny little wires. This pattern, which arguably could be used for a circlet, is much more appropriately sized to be a sash, or something like it. He holds it up between himself and Galahad, and squints. Yeah, definitely sash-sized.