I would hope there's no question on the measure of our souls. To become undying may be a grievous, unnatural thing, but the Blade has no laws against such beings.

[ Likely because they don't exist where he's from, let's be honest. Though Wyll makes a face. "That other foreign novice," did she mean Enrico? Ah, Erico... he's a little more strict with the sinfulness than Wyll is, that's for sure.

Wyll shakes his head. ]

Ah, this too is somewhat different from my home, though I picked up a few tricks from the children in the village I was at, before. Just a bit of childish games, you know? Like playing amid the fountains in the summertime, snow provides a harmless bit of fun.