[ Jeff follows, watching her curiously. That quick spell she casts seems a bit out of place here, like a little beacon of light magic... ]

Huh?

[ OH. She asked a question. ]

Oh. No. I'm a West Coast transplant. [ Which might make a few things click together now that he's admitted it. Like, say, the reason why he may give off "aging surfer" vibes. ] Judging by your own lack of a drawl, I'm guessing you're no more a local than I am.