senses warlock

We had just turned to head toward the gorilla house when my day started getting complicated.
I felt it at first as a series of flickering sensations against my forehead. It reminded me of a moth fluttering against a lit wall—constant and random flutters, somehow conveying confusion, frustration, and fear. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and a quick check around showed me at least three different people who were suddenly perplexed that their electronic devices had started malfunctioning.
Magic was in the air—and it wasn’t coming from me.

Brief Cases, Zoo Day, Chapter 385-386


We got seats in the restaurant, and I ordered some French fries and left Maggie with a twenty to pay for more if she needed it. I made sure she was comfortable, got Mouse settled in at her feet, and strode briskly outside, carefully opening my wizard’s senses.
Magic is a living, breathing force, but nothing makes it stir and swirl as much as human beings, and especially human emotion. Based on what a given person is feeling and how strong an emotion they are experiencing, magic can quiver and pulse like the cover to a rock-concert speaker, vibrating hard against the senses of anyone born with the ability to sense it. More people have that than you’d think: folks who get unexpectedly creeped out in the woods, who sense that something seems particularly ominous about a darkened parking garage, who sometimes feel something in the air that grates against them and makes them abruptly cross the street for no particular reason —they’re mostly gifted with sensitivity. If they trust their instincts, such senses can help them avoid no end of possible trouble.
For example, I could, with a little concentration, feel an intense and unpleasant sense of unease off to my right, along one of the park’s paths. Even as I watched, I saw half a dozen people either swerve off to one side, apparently distracted by something else, or else simply change their minds and not follow the path. Their instincts were serving them well.
My instincts frequently roll their eyes at the decisions my brain makes. I walked firmly, directly, into the unpleasant energy and started looking for trouble.
I found it within fifty yards, in the shadiest part of the path, where the park’s trees and bushes and the walls of the various buildings and enclosures hoarded a cluster of shadow that shouldn’t have been quite as dim as it was.
A young man in a black hoodie stood in the shade, hands thrust deep into his pockets. The air around him pulsed with anger and a fear that was near panic. The air around him thrummed with tension and energy, far more of it than a vanilla mortal should be able to emit. He was slender, and though I could only see a bit of his face in profile, the acne was visible enough.
Stars and stones.
A warlock.

Brief Cases, Zoo Day, Page 387-388