They would have to let him out of this room. Outside. There would be many other mages at the university. Waver had expected some sort of protest or pointing out how risky that would be, but instead, it seemed Devyn was seriously considering this. Waver let out a slow breath-- and then an audible gasp at the prickle of foreign magic along his skin making the hair on his arms stand up. Instinctively, his tongue probed at his lower lip to find the swelling and the cut gone.

He did not thank her. Still, Waver didn't argue or protest the intrusive touch of magic he hadn't been warned for even if he didn't like it. He just watched her skittishly as she moved to pick up the part of the cuffs that had bound his hands together, waiting. But Devyn did not try to put it back on him. Nor did she re-activate the cage.

"...okay," Waver said finally, without moving yet to reach for the tray or the shirt. He couldn't try to leave the locked and guarded room anyway. There was no need to put him back, but he held his tongue and did not push his luck right now. Driven by the hope that he would get out of here soon -- and the fear of being disposed of if he was too much trouble -- Waver resigned himself to accepting the physical restrictions for the time being. If he proved he wasn't going to try running away, maybe they wouldn't restrict his movements so heavily again.