"I wear my luck charm in my hair, because my hair stays put when I shift. A necklace could do the same thing, or a sufficiently elastic," she turns one hand into a paw, "bracelet. Ice can probably substitute for me aesthetics-wise."

"And I'll substitute for Max. What things stay when he shifts?"

"Uh - not much. And his wrists and ankles get smaller, not bigger, delicate little deer feet... He can still keep a necklace, though."

"Delicate little deer feet," snorts Cypress. "I'll go with the necklace."

"He's a pertyon, he's supposed to have delicate little deer feet. On which to prance."

Cypress snickers. "Does he actually prance?"

"He has done. I have been promised access to the pictures next time I'm near the photo album."

"... He's not letting you show other people, is he."

"No. It took me this long to get permission for myself!"

"I must remind myself - I am against the invasion of privacy with immoral scrying. Love, I'm against that sort of thing, even when it's for something as innocuous as adorable pictures. Don't let me do it."

"Of course not. Use your detailed knowledge of your target's psyche to obtain consent first."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Awwwww."

"We are cute and flaunty."

"Both of those things."

"It's super adorable. Carry on."

"Will do." Ice accounts for all of her possessions and heads for the Chamomile portal.

"Thanks," says Phix to Cypress, and she goes back to Medallion to wait for Darren to get home so he can be apprised of the situation.

"You're welcome," says Cypress, and he follows his wife to their home.

Savannah does not head back to Medallion - she is going to meet her alt. They will be doing things. Glorious things. Hey, she's eighteen, it's legal now.

"Hi. Savannah showed up and Cypress used her to get a look at Mr. Racist Against Sphinxes. He is a dragon. I have his address. Ice will attempt to kill him at range for me if I ask, but I haven't yet."