[his glasses slip down on his nose ever so slightly as he peers at Caster from the corners of his vision. he's busying himself with clearing off tables again, tossing glasses and silverware into the busboy tub with perfect precision even though he's not really focused on what he's doing]

[after a moment. . . he exhales, and the tension leaves his own shoulders]

You asked me if I'd wish for the miracle of a god; I just answered honestly. My words weren't directed at her, specifically.

If she isn't in a position to help those on your Earth, then that's not something I look down on.