Dom runs a foreleg over one of his antennae, and Sunshine resists the urge to roll her eyes. Is Persis setting him off? Is that what this is? She has enough weird shit to explain without getting into 'I think your animal-self is a bad influence' territory, like his his squirrel goaded her bee into pushing another animal-person on the playground.

Talking shop seems comparatively safe. Sunshine uncurls her fingers and lets her knife rest on her open palm, the glow radiating upwards like a tiny, perpetual dawn. They could use all the light they could get, and she's pretty sure Castor isn't going to snatch it and go sprinting off. "It... sort of does. Indirectly. I don't know how magic-handling works in your universe, but do you have affinities? Things you're good with, like water or wood or whatever?"