I am, Tamizin responded, still quite thrilled at perceiving thoughts in her head. I very much am.

He wanted to continue to explore their first meeting. It made sense as a frame of reference to them both, considering what Yavin was curious about - her way of remembering. So to oblige him, she refocused on that recent day.  She felt for the memory on the shelf, and slid it out of the little cubby. It was lightweight, and the surface textured like linen. No dust on this one - a newer wand memory. She wiped her hand all along the foot-long lid.

When she opened it, the sound of Alohomocha was louder and the wandshop nearly dissappeared. She even felt her feet on the ground. "Ah! Well!"

She laughed! There he was, next to her at the counter. His first few words and strange way of speaking, his cologne, his proximity his height. The weight and warmth of his arm.

Yavin, it's you. Now you know, now you know! It was quite funny, somehow. She hadn't hidden her fascination, so her attraction shouldn't be a surprise. That's what you're like!

But even while she engaged this pleasent day, her curiosity to push this further crept up on her concentration.

Wands were very much on Tamzin's mind, and he chuckled to himself in real life as the memory was fully drawn out from its place on a shelf. Just like uncovering your intended companion at Ollivander's shop, an experience Yavin only knew of by word of mouth. His own wand was obtained at an establishment in New Orleans - another time, another era.

The surreality of sensing himself through someone else's experience was not unusual to him. He smiled at the indications of attraction, the little ways in which the witch had noticed changes in his voice or his genial presence relative to where she was stood or sat in Alohomocha. 

It is me! Yavin echoed and then remarked with another laugh, I'm always much taller in other people's heads.

Her eagerness to push forward was blatant and easily registered but he kept her mind at a distance from his own. It was easy to employ a trick or two, giving Tamzin the impression of running on a treadmill: going forward simply meant staying in place. Yavin knew better than to let untrained wixes near his borders.

This has been a fascinating experience, Tamzin... his mind voice rumbled, as he opened his eyes to their cosy set-up by the living room fire, I must thank you for the opportunity. Shall we resume our corporal forms?

Of course, he'd never taken himself away from his physical senses, just helped the witch to forget hers to focus on imagining a mindscape. It took practice to be both inside and outside of yourself at the same time.

"You have been a very, aha, a patient subject," he commented warmly, out loud.

Like a sudden evening breeze, Tamzin felt wisked back to the living. The first sensation was the weight of her body in the chair, the texture of the couch, the pressure of the dog against her foot. She took a deep breath and flexed her fingers in and out of a few fists.

She sat still a moment, and pursed her lips. Yavin had disconnected their link just as she'd hoped to continue. She felt it was a supportable guess he knew exactly what he was doing.

"And you a capable guide," she agreed, perhaps just the slightest bit less enthusiastic as she'd been. Outside of her memory the room felt echo-y, or breezy, or just a little bit hollow. Maybe like the cold of the bathroom after stepping out of the shower. 

Tamzin sat forward in the chair, reaching down gently in an offering of pats for Argus. She was a cat Animagus, but that didn't mean she didn't love dogs.

"Yavin, you stopped me. Why? Please don't pretend you didn't hear me keen to continue," she said in a casual bluntness she was known for.