Ok. A witch. That was interesting. Like in Macbeth. Druid frowned and then glanced down at the edge of the blanket. There was already sand on it. "No. I mean, I'm not a witch. I don't use cauldrons." He said without thinking, and then paused and hoped he hadn't insulted a colleague already. He risked a darted eye glance at Billy. Yeaah, He should explain himself more. "I'm a Druid. Which is to say, a magician person. My dad studied with mystics. So it sort of passed on." Another frown formed. "To me." Hopefully that helped clarify things.
A new question came to him as he finished. How much they really were similar. "How did you get your stuff?" Was it also a relative too? They would make things interesting. They said these sorts of deals happened in patterns. Maybe he was always part of that?