The nose knows, maybe.

Naked arms, his secrets still like songs I never learned Remi snorts with laughter, his blindness not hiding his own blush as he shrugs and grins. "Back to work. You think being blind has stopped my Aoife duties?" He quipped back with a bright and sunny peal of laughter. Remi can't feel her want for hesitation or potential awkwardness in her embrace, and he smiles adoringly into her sunwashed hair until she pulls away to grab the staff. If Remi thinks this idea is silly, the incorporation of the antlers, he gives absolutely no indication. He doesn't of course, and his smile is faint as his eyes close and his fingers splay, wanting to reach out and see the staff through his hands, if Amalia will let him. His still dexterous fingers work nimbly over the gnarled wood, feeling where it has been held, where hands have gripped it, and where indeed the antlers make it unbalanced. Faintly he smiles to him, his eyes almost squinting as if he is seeing something in his mind. "Here, stand, if you will—" He suggests gently, using the staff to help raise himself up. Unsteadily he holds it out, unsure where Amalia is now. "If you hold it parallel to you...about where would you say your hand falls? 1/4 of the way from the top? Lower? Higher?" He almost suggests her placing his hand atop her head and the other on the staff so that he can feel the measurement for himself, but keeps the idea instead as a backup.