[ His inner pyromaniac is showing... (though it would be cool; then again, she thinks voluntarily controlled magic is pretty neat when not used to harm or intimidate others for no purpose past being mean.)

She nods, pulling her hood back and carefully stepping through the puddled water to move back out into the hall. ]

Mm! I'll tell the clerk about the water...

[ Glancing back at the water and the soaked room, she pauses. ]

... maybe after you check out.

[ Which is her own prelude to shaking off her feet and hopping over the running river of water to dance back out to the main room, beelining for the counter. Nothing strange about soaked people overall, right? Weather's come to Cerealia in a big enough way it shouldn't be notable. As it turns out, the clerk is apathetic enough to their situation to barely blink, more glad the two of them stopped yelling than noticing one's more damp now than when she entered the store. ]