Yes, 'walking stick' indeed. That was what he told people who asked what it was, and he had rather irreverently come to use it as such at times. However, his friends would not have been surprised. While easily one of the more devout to the old gods, even they were not beyond his gentle teasing. He did not consider worship and well placed humor to be mutually exclusive. While that may lead people to think he did not take his faith seriously, it was more because he did not take much except death seriously, and that was the filter through which he viewed the world.
In all honesty, he was often in awe of the old gods and wyverns.
His staff was one part of his old life that he had left. Although carrying it was problematic at times, and had elicited more than a few stares, he would not part with it even on pain of death. Usually he acted the foolish idiot whenever someone pointed out that it was a mage's staff, laughing and looking surprised and trying to pass as awed and fearful. He was not sure how well he managed the other two, but his lies usually made up for any lack of acting skills. 'Well, I just 'appened to find this inna field and it looked mighty fine. A magic stalf?' or 'I bought it cause it's all nicely carved, thought it was for walkin'. The general idiocy usually put people off.
But if she was a mage, where was her staff? And shouldn't she recognize one when she sees it? How very perplexing and not at all what he was expecting. Brennan cocked his head in the opposite direction that she did, trying to not let his confusion show on his face and failing. "Shouldn't you have a 'walking stick' of your own?" He carefully probed, using what little tact he had picked up over the past three years to not say 'magic staff'.