[That's the hardest answer, harder than where his arm is. Faintly, he feels Claw pressing against their legs in concern. Cat's a thieving brat most of the time, but he's ended up as family in his own right.]

...Y'know that ol' tale about some ol' tosser who hears music comin' from a ways off and finds a bunch a faeries and trolls and the like all havin' a grand ol' party?

So he stays a while, he does... Only for a few hours, by his count. But he goes back home, ta his little town, and his wife's on old maid and his children all grown up because his two hours were fifty years for the rest a the world...

[Fairytales. Guess they had some truth after all. He takes a breath.]

It was winter when I got here, but it's headin inta fall now... Ten months or so. [She can probably feel him brace himself for the reaction.]