[The magic gives Roland time to work through the words and, once the light has faded, most - not all, but most - of his surprise has passed. He glances at the doll and then turns his attention to his hand, looking it over stretching his fingers. No harm done, apparently. Good.]

You know, I feel as if there ought to be some ritual for a man meeting some world's version of his own long-dead forefathers. If there is, my tutor missed out on teaching it. Oh, the stories you must have in you to tell.

[But there are practicalities at hand here. Roland nods at them. That is, at the doll.]

Is that more magic, do you think? Another harmless prank, or something we ought to be concerned over?