Considering the briefs beneath his linen trousers, Alistair merely stared quietly as Jonathan continued to work, wholly oblivious to the second portion of his clothes that had been degraded. Now, the mage's bulge was available for viewing against the singular layer of his undergarbs, which was a thought that would be surely horrifying if he'd imagined any patients or business partners swinging by the vacant yards and fields surrounding Kaelserad.
Alistair was doubly reinforced in his ignorance by the corrosion of the rock, polishing it and degrading its... flaws. He offered this to the Lich, who entirely contained his snickering, something quite trivial for a Lich - who could cut themselves off from the baseline of their body. Of course, the same was said regarding his flirtation, something that the mage merely smirked at, but did not immediately respond to. He would, eventually, but - not right now. Alistair was already on the verge of throwing him into a portal that led to, virtually, nowhere - something he did often to those who exceptionally irritated him.
A role Damien fulfilled often.
Alistair already thought the two were far too perfect for one another - both ridiculous, fixated on ridiculous things, acting in ridiculous ways. He normally partook in humor too, but... not right now. He wanted to be a stern, unrepentant master. A guardian for the other mage, who would discipline his instincts. It was difficult for him to let loose this trill, and so, he merely listened and tried to ensure that his eyes did not roll too far into his skull.
"Thank you," the Lich responded, kissing the rock with his surprisingly pink lips. He scarcely looked different from any other man - just, perhaps, a bit odd in how his body moved. Not everything came together immediately, and sometimes he needed to correct his position and movements upon realizing they were flawed. Joints did not control him, nor nerves, but rather a guidance based on memory.
"Now," Damien started, smoothing his hands over the rock, gliding each palm rather soothingly over the soft surface. He then tossed it back, offering Jonathan another trial. "Identify it again. See how the history has changed?" he asked. "Identification can be used to understand the work of other Transmuters, and your own. It acts as validation and appraisal for your objects, artifices and artifacts, and it will help guide you towards perfect ethereal crafting in the eventual future. Use it, always, as a matter of instinct. You need to know the structure and make of an object, after each and every touch you add. Otherwise, that object may shatter, and the consequences may be severe," he warned, offering his wisdom.
But that was enough of that. Damien had a thought, and Alistair had a suggestion. The two of them would seem mentally linked to an unknown bystander, as the two often coincided in what they felt was for the best.
"We're teaching him Transmutation so that he may defend himself without relying upon Aberration," Alistair informed the Lich, who nodded.
"Sensible," Damien simply stated. "Bolstering, then. We'll learn about that next. But first... let's go to that spot we... found," he said, half-hesitantly. Damien would say they did more than 'find' it - he and Alistair were directly responsible for it. "I think it'd be a good place to learn."
Alistair nodded; they were in immediate, if not preemptive agreement. The black blot that was his portal once again appeared, space torn before them. Alistair suggested that the others step through, before doing so himself. When they came out on the other side, the Willow Woods would appear before them... and a clearing filled with wooden stakes shoved into the ground, long enough to match the beginning of the men's waistlines. A grave, though the men buried at the end of the splintering blades were not ordinary or typical, nor were the circumstances around their death.
"A proper place to Identify, Corrode, and Bolster," Damien nodded. "I suggest we set up for the evening, perhaps even unto tomorrow. Magical abilities are not so easy to master, and I want to review Jonathan's spells before we separate," he said. Alistair agreed; they'd camp if need be. He'd cleared out his days for a reason, content to spend much of his time instructing the upcoming mage. Alistair had no true magical legacy, and it would have been a great feat to turn an Aberrant into a mage of great reach.
So, while everything may have seemed sudden, he did not question his own actions. This was simply the way it would be; the apprentice would garner an inordinate amount of his attention, but only as progress showed, and he was confident that he would. Alistair found himself looking upon Jonathan far more often, staring at his features, accentuated by his beard and his masculine face. He was intelligent; more than he'd realized. He was, also, tamed... at least to an extent.
Camping out in the Willow Woods again sounded fun. Particularly considering the three men hadn't brought anything in advance; Alistair would need to, once again, put his Fieldcraft to the test.