Horst just shakes his head back and forth for a little while, watching the calm librarian he met just a few days before roll around onto his giant, draconic back. Then he plants his sword point-down into the ground and bends over it, laughing wildly, astounded by the unpredictability of life.

"All's forgiven," he waves him off with his free hand, still bent double. "I live to fight another day. Apparently I really don't know you terribly well -- even less so than I imagined."

He straightens up to make a proper study of the dragon he knows only as the man named Mayland Long. This new creature is massive and graceful as a cloud. "I can't imagine how you manage to be something so different so capably. It must be terribly cramped. Can you take many shapes?"