"Okay. Thanks ever so for the company," says Aurin, and he songs Mial again.

"Lovely meeting you."

"Ugh. Technical difficulties," sighs Aurin, reading this note. "A time estimate would be nice, coz... Ugh."

"Do you have any reason to suspect he has a time estimate?"

"Not a precise one, but I'd hope he'd at least tell me whether to get a hotel room or not. Hotels are a thing here, right?"

"Yes. Hotels are a thing."

"See, I can't rely too much on what words you have because apparently dragons are not, except for, today, me, a thing here."

"I can see how that would be confusing, yes."

"Have you got a pen? I'm going to write on the back of this note in case he summons it back."

Sherlock produces a pen.

And Aurin takes it and writes Can I get a general idea of how long I'm going to be here? Angles? Weeks? Months? If it is more than angles please be slightly circumspect about exactly when you scry me. Also, if you can get any of my or Mother's or Uncle Avar's or I suppose your own scales that are lying around I can apparently call it close enough to currency here in a way I suspect I could not do with kasri or aaberik and I'd rather not have to pry mine off before they want to drop. For that matter if it's going to be a long time I could use a few changes of clothes and AN EXPLANATION PLEASE AND THANK YOU MIAL.

Sherlock seems to derive great entertainment from watching Aurin write this message.

Aurin will allow that. He waves the note in the air, on the chance that Mial has an active scry running.

After several waves, it vanishes.

Aurin sits on a headstone and waits. Apparently he no longer feels the need to be reflexively capable of firebreathing around Sherlock.

"Right, I don't have to pick at my shiny exterior for cash, I'm getting a care package. Apparently I was eaten by a giant snake with a mirror for a face. Is that a here thing? It is not a home thing."

"I wouldn't be astonished to hear of someone being eaten by a giant snake with a mirror for a face and turning up in another world, it's broadly the sort of thing that happens, but I have not actually heard of it happening to anyone until just now."

Aurin scribbles: The local says the snake thing sounds vaguely characteristic of this place but hasn't heard of it happening in particular. Please tell Mother that I'm basically fine and they have things like hotels here.

"What sort of technical difficulties is your cousin having, anyway?"

"Summoning spell didn't work for unknown reasons. Even if the reasons were known I'd be the wrong person to explain 'em."

"Not a technical sort of person?"

"No, not really."

"But your cousin is the sort of person who prevents nearby provinces from being eaten by mirror-faced snakes?"