"I remember now," he nods weakly, presses his lips against her neck. "We had a plan. Is a good plan. I will assist...gladly."

After another few moments of sitting, he feels he is likely good enough to stand up - a quick 'rinse' in the spring once she has climbed off of his lap, and he shakes his wings out once more before going looking for their bag, his kilt and her dress.

"Would you prefer to fly back in dragon form? I am unsure the distance to the Lair, exactly," he asks, as he looks at her dress, and then at her. "My mind hardly knows which way is North, at the moment."