If there's any scent to it, it's a scent of ozone, like that of a violent thunderstorm without the rain.

The smile with which he answers is a bit thin, as though the reality is a little more complicated and less pleasant.

"...mm. I appreciate the compliment, Mr. Wolf... but my control is... primitive, in a word, and even that has been hard-won. I've learned discipline, and taught myself what I could about this..."

He glances at the violet sphere--then casually shakes his hand out as though extinguishing a match, and the sphere fizzles, breaking apart into a purple haze that quickly dims to red and disappears. The smell of ozone definitely kicks in more strongly as the sphere dissipates.

"...but I'm still far from mastering it. Although I do hope to rectify that shortcoming, in my time here."