"I can't recall the last time I did magic of that nature. Why, who's asking for hair? Was it that Schön fellow? He asked the same of me; a strand from my beard, which I declined at the time. Do you regret this exchange for any reason?" Give him the dirt, Verity.

The paper is plucked delicately from her fingers with his claw, assuming he's allowed to take it and read it over.