It's a miracle when Bernard seems to so quickly calm down, once the reality finally works through the thick alcoholic fog in his skull and shows him what sort of a threat Alastair poses. (None!) The bard watches almost endeared as the other man cautiously tries to engage the ring, curious and frustrated.

"Do you think it sentient, possessing a mind of its own?" It's not a mocking query, but Alastair does laugh softly as he takes his jewelry back. Sliding it back onto its home-digit, he makes slow, fluid movements before igniting his fingertips once more with a snap. He even keeps a few paces away from Bernard until he moves to close the gap with his hand, holding the flame to him.

"Honestly, does everyone react like this to magic? Don't you have witches in this world...?" There's a strained chuckle, bouncing in slight uneasiness. Alastair wonders just how close he came to a lynching.