[He still looks faintly amused as he finishes smoothing down the robe and straightens up his cape, but he resists the urge to laugh again between all her blushing and griping. Difficult to please, irritable, likes to complain... Maybe he understands a bit more what he must have been like to deal with, not so long ago. Rather than mention that, though, he instead tactfully opting to focus only on the sign she draws on the ground.]

Yes. Except -- when is the hour of the ox?

[The second hour of the day, like the zodiac? It might have a different meaning in her world, though.]

And if anything arises, we should try to stay in touch via Communion. [If you need help, he wants to say, but he can already imagine the angry reaction to even implying she might need such a thing.] It might be difficult, but it's an option.