Wanda was considering his words, the wheels behind her eyes visibly turning when the pop of his transformation startled her once again. Another step back straightened her stature, the hex dissolving into nothing as both hands gripped the jacket against her.
"Nothing is free," the witch bit back, defiant to his immensely unsettling joie de vivre, "nothing. Even if I have died and gone to heaven, we are but mice spinning in wheels for the amusement of the God who built this lovely cage."
Her brow furrowed as she stared once more into the spire, stretching impossibly high and continuing onward. "What is the tower?"