There is a long stare at the skeleton who is describing necromancy as fantasy magic. Not an offended stare, more like the stare one would give if one picked up, say, one's favorite hoodie, and the hoodie started talking to you about how much it liked all the adventures you've gone on.

River can't even bring herself to make a papyrus scroll pun about how he must be a good read.

"...Well. Related story, River la Croix, journeyman necromancer, pleasure to meet you. That patch of sand next to ya spoken for?"