Grandpa James' handwriting was in wonky colours, all loopy and rushed. It reminded Al of something released into the wild from Uncle George's shop, and not from the tip of a wand.
The handwriting was stable enough, staying up in the air and flashing well past the time Al'd read the words, although his fingers itched to add a missing full-stop at the end of the second sentence with a long-established habit of a proofreader.
Better not.
"It's fine. I'm unharmed," Al assured him in voiced words he could only feel himself speaking but not hear. "How is Grandmother Lily?"