"It is. Wouldn't want to wear one of these in there, lest we intended on ruining it."

We. Because, she realizes, she would absolutely wear one of those dresses in the shower if he'd asked her to. Not that he would--it seems too impractical of him.

She considers both their eggs, sitting beside one another on her pillows. They're pretty, far too elaborately designed to house any creature within it. But her dragon eggs were beautiful as well, stone-like, and they'd hatched.

Smoothing her palm along his stomach, she nods her head--both in acknowledgement, and to prompt him to move. "Shower. Before the chicken's remains decide to take permanent refuge on your cheeks and I can never kiss you again."