"...um." Cricket says softly, like he kind of wants to object, to question, because this is partly his responsibility, and since the man on the table can't say yea or nay to whatever Azwel wants to do, it seems like someone should at least try to understand what's about to happen. It's not that he distrusts magic in particular. He's fascinated by it, especially after meeting Caleno, after getting close to Loki. It's not for him, the same way pole-vaulting isn't for him, but he can admire it.

But there's always a price to be paid for a miracle.

On the other hand, the man clearly has no chance without some major intervention, so Cricket opts to shut up and let the sorcerer do his work. And what a work it is! Cricket was already a little shaken up, but the light and sound and the thrum at the base of his spine makes him feel like he's about to pass out, and potentially vomit in the process. He sways and takes a couple hasty steps backward to drop into a sitting position on a crate, letting his head hang between his knees.

"Jesus," he mutters under his breath. And it's a mercy it ends when it does, and he's spared any further embarrassment.

He looks up woozily and is immediately concerned that Azwel looks about as sickly as he feels. "Y'a'ight, sir? You best sit..."

His gaze goes to Steve, then. He's halfway checking to make sure he's okay, and halfway hoping he can drag Azwel to a chair ASAP.