Steve's got no sense for the magic or arcane. But just because he can't pick up on magic doesn't mean he can't see what's being done. The effects themselves and the almost-melody that ring through the air feel like they're messing with his sense of balance. Like his inner ear has been damaged or he's experiencing the mother of all seasickness. He moves back when Cricket does, though not quite as far and is honestly startled by how unsteady he feels on his feet.

As though they'd give way underneath him at any second.

Okay, he feels a lot more woozy than he thought he would. Steve's actually gotten used to the way things hit him now. Not as intensely (unless they're things that are meant to be fatal to ordinary folk), and never lingering for as long as they should. Flashes of pain that dull away rather than chronic lingering pain he's known all his life.

Right now, in this moment? Steve feels like he's both at once. He's clearly in his altered body but he's shaky in a way he hasn't been since he was in his own. He doesn't like it one bit. But whatever else the magic has done, it's clearly done good for the man on the cot.

Steve looks up with a gaze as shaky as the rest of him when Azwel tumbles back into a chair. Turns slowly so the room doesn't spin to look back at Cricket and make sure he's alright. And then, to Azwel.

"Will you be okay?" A beat. "Should we restrain this guy?"