Howl sighed quietly when he remembered the details of his magic use the previous night. He hadn't died just yet, but severing the bond between himself and Calcifer had done something unpleasant to him. Muffling of magic in any of its forms seemed standard at Landel's, but Howl still had no heart. There was no way of telling how long his magic could support his body in this state. He could hear the clock ticking down, but couldn't see the hands.

Howl pulled himself from those dark thoughts and looked up at Ciel again, with eyes that were particularly empty and glassy, even by Howl's normal standards. "I'd be a poor wizard if I didn't," he teased sleepily, and then left it at that. "And what of you, young man? Do you have any magic? Or a name, perhaps?"