Ronan shrugged as Miss Williams signed her name with – in his mind – foolish haste and resolved himself to watching the ink of the signature glimmer from black to green, then back to its normal, inert state. That was the magic of the Underwood Society, he supposed; his own had turned gold, and he never even questioned it. Closing the ledger and ensuring that the strap around it was tightened so no loose pages could escape, he only caught a glimpse of Harley's rather... baffling expression – was she upset?

Women.

“Oh, there is no doubt in my mind that evolution is what brought us here, today,” Ronan said, flipping open a pocket watch with one hand to check the time and rifling through the ancient box with the other. “I am not so naïve nor am I religious to completely discount science; however– ouch, broken glass–,“ he cut himself off as by accident, his fingers brushed across something sharp and painful. “However, I have seen things, [i]met[/i] things beyond human understanding; things that cannot be explained by science. Though you are welcome to try.”

“Consider this,” he said, withdrawing a long sliver of smooth wood – rowan – which seemed older than the box itself. Symbols, Celtic ones, were carved into it with all the finesse of a small child, wounds on the apparent wand. Ronan knew he wasn't the most sensitive of folks but even he could feel the tingle of electricity that ran up his arm and to some warm centre near his heart. He gracelessly tossed it to Harley with a boyish grin on his face. “I would call you a liar, if you say you can't feel anything from that.”