With the lariat once more at home at her waist and both of them on the ground, she finally takes a better look at him. Her eyes follow his hand as he pulls the flowers away from his other arm. It does look like it'll be a pain, with the tiny vines and petals. She's a little surprised that they didn't simply fade once the spell was broken; as she thought, it was powerful magic that had held them in the air.

"I can help," she offers. She's absolutely sincere, but also can't hide the curiosity in her eyes--or from slipping past her tongue. "Do many men here have arms like this?" She can't say she's ever seen anything like it, but she also knows she really hasn't met many men, relatively speaking. It could be very common, for all she knows.