"Right," you murmur, slipping the bracelet on and selecting another of those smoothed rocks from the small pile on the table. You'd make a ring, but you don't have a normal ring to work with. So a rock it is, then.
You exhale slowly, holding the rock on the flat of your palm. You know what you want -pain blocking- so you simply pour magic from the palm, letting your intention and the bracelet guide the formation. Grief wicks into the winding traceries of magic, giving the enchantment a speckled appearance to your mind's eye.
"Here we are," you say, holding it out to Mami. Absently, you dissolve the bracelet rather than keep it around - the Witchy sensation's probably a distraction.