[ When Gavial stills, Matt does too. He's not thinking about it, or trying to do it; it's just a product of his attention. Some of this physical empathy was probably always a part of him, but it's undoubtedly been honed through his years of magical practice. So much of it is based in breath and awareness, in the place where spirit meets embodied self.

The first part of her answer, he reads as more or less it depends. He has to imagine there's hundreds of little signs, maybe thousands, that indicate whether someone's going to pull through, and that her experience has taught her to process them so fast it feels like intuition. He gets it. There's a lot about his own experiences that he struggles to explain.

The rest, though ... ]

"The work doesn't stop," [ Matt echoes, a curious tasting of the phrase. He likes it. It has weight. ] Yeah. That's true. The work doesn't stop, but we will, so--there's always something you'll be leaving unfinished. And you'll always fuck up on some level, so there'll always be something to regret unless you ... I guess never leave the house.

[ He smiles at her faintly. ]

Still. Not all work has such immediate consequences. Not that you can see.