Kaz, for his part, manages to hold his ground. Gloved fingers tighten on his cane, but he doesn't scurry backwards. Mostly from sheer willpower and determination and an unwillingness to let the man's terror show fear of his own. He'll be damned if he's seen publicly showing fear. Ever.

"Not my skill, sadly," he says with a long suffering sigh, not yet determining that it was, actually, quite his skill. "You seem a bit jumpy to be practicing a bit of pocketing though. Seems an easy way to be caught. I mean, if that was what you were doing and not just helping."