"And dangerous," Skan reminds him, hunching close to see better, cupping his wings like mantling vulture, "That's meant to be a fragment of a god's mind, let's not forget."

And all that's left now is to return it to its rightful owner. Or what passes for it, more or less. Shaking off the dust and melancholy, Skandranon holds out a talon for the fragment, and then assumes the same crouch as before, the better to allow Viktor to mount up. There really must be a less undignified way to manage this... perhaps some kind of loop or stirrup?

"So, Viktor. How do you find the world of your homeland? A good life, a hard one? Got a spouse, family? Hm?"