[Dist mutters a quick thanks as Ion opens the door, taking the sight of the boy's wings in with a critical and calculated eye as he enters. He takes immediate note of the change in color, and the oddity of the feathers' placement. They almost looked as if they were ready to begin shedding somehow. And somewhere, in the back of his mind, Dist is a little relieved. Ion looked physically well, if a bit tired, but that was a norm Dist saw often enough to not be too concerned with at the time being.]

Would you mind if I examined your wings somewhat, Fon Master? I believe I may know the cause of your so-called "affliction". But I just want to be absolutely certain in my assumption. I may have to touch your wings. If you're uncomfortable with such, you may do so yourself.

[Since he doesn't want to do something to accidentally harm Ion. Dist just wants to see if the fluff will shed off if someone brushed them very gently away.]