Jason listens, his head tilted slightly to one side. He used tools of various sorts, of course-- scrying basins, daggers, crystals when necessary, rings-- and many things more random-- had all served as focuses for his spells over the years. But they were simply tools; he had no emotional attachment to them. And none of the pride in Lupin's voice speaking of the stick that lay on the table.

With an arched brow of mild surprise he reaches for the flower, runs a light finger over the stem and blossom. He does not know if he could do such-- because such magics have never been his focus. But he knows that if he could it would take him far more time, far more study and work-- it would not be a matter of merely tapping a wand. That speaks of a power both more intuitive than his own, and quite probably more spectacular.

Jason withdraws his fingers from the flower, crosses his arms before him on the table.

"If you would like. It is perhaps not so... dramatic. You mentioned there are those with less raw talent than yourself-- those more dependent on the wand...

"I have very little actual talent, you see. Merely doggedness. And time."