How did they go about this? Alfred wasn't used to teaching people things. Occasionally he taught a sailor a knot they weren't familiar with, or some trivial bit of navigational lore, but that was a far sight different from training someone in using a type of magic they'd never been schooled in before.

"Right. Should I explain it, or show you?" he wondered aloud, glancing around to see if he had anything close at hand that he could use to demonstrate. He settled on one of the couch cushions, and hoped his flatmate wouldn't be able to notice the difference when he next used the sofa. It wasn't as though either of them had frequent guests, so this ought to be fine. Alfred retrieved a holstered knife from a nearby table (it was always close at hand, since having been lost in the wilderness he understood the value of a good knife; it was only absent from his belt because he'd been lounging on the couch with no plans of going out when she arrived) and cut a long slit in the pillow.

"So you can do it with both hands, or just one. It's faster with both, but obviously that's not always possible if you're trying to stitch your arm back together," he said, nodding towards the scar he'd just showed her. "So you make a sign with your hand like this — over the thing you want to close up — and then there's a chant. Just under your breath is fine, it doesn't have to be loud or anything. So —" he hesitated, giving her a quick look to see if she was following or if she'd dismissed him as insane, then demonstrated. As he chanted, the rip in the pillow slowly repaired itself, just as though the tear had never been there.