[ Matt returns Tezcatlipoca's regard curiously, without trepidation or challenge. He thinks about jungle creatures, about those rites where an elect few live as gods until the time comes to be sacrificed. It isn't until he hears cheater that he smiles, his eyebrows hiking playfully. ]

I'm not sure what a magic circuit is, [ he admits, still enunciating with care. Dulling his sense of taste in this blunt way dulls the feeling in his tongue in general. ] So I'd guess not. Let's see ...

[ --Okay, squeamish Matt is not, but between the first horrid sip of this drink and the squish of raw meat in sharp teeth, he needs a moment to be sure he won't be sick. Fortunately, dampening his sense of taste seems to affect smell too. ]

Ah. Well it's based on breath, ultimately. Hinduism calls it prana, like--the concept that the most basic unit of life, of the soul, is expressed and flows through breath. Other traditions might focus on blood, [ whose could those be?? ] but to me--you carry oxygen through your blood, so it's a different route to the same destination. [ He takes another blessedly flavorless swallow of his drink. This spell was such a small thing it's sure not to last long, and Matt wants to finish this before he's reminded what it tastes like. ] My route into magic is to breathe, meditate on an outcome, and channel energy through my body.

[ He smiles. ]

You know. Basically.