[For a moment, because his mind is filled with all sense of wondery and imagination, he fears she actually will grow larger, and turn into a very Villentretenmerth-sized dragon, and perhaps step on him. Which. He's pretty sure he can't die here, but it would not be an exciting experience. He swallows heavily as his heart skips.

And then he relaxes, releasing his breath. He wrinkles his nose.]

I... yes, I suppose it does. Even when one's craft, is, er, turning into a smaller and/or larger series of dragons?

[Moglad, bless you. You're the perfect target. The moogle grabs his pom in both hands and fervently shakes his head back and forth, his wings flapping ever harder. Moglad is simply respecting Lady Himeka's privacy, kupo!

Wait. Is she practically his --

No, that's far too much. Jaskier gives Moglad a soft pat on the head so he knows no one is truly upset.] Er. Speaking of privacy, are you sure you don't want a robe or something? I'm not complaining, of course. Either way.

[Funny, coming from him. At least he's maintained the towel around his waist.] Ah, actually. I did just come from the springs. What do you say to a relaxing soak?

[Look, he doesn't even have to cajole her into undressing. That part's been done. (My. Those scales go. Farther than he expected.)]