[The giant fuzzy worm in question takes a moment to sweep out her environs with her antennae before turning toward Lahabrea. Either she knows what a chair is for, or has enough of a vocabulary to parse the instructions the Ascian gives, because she's right beside Myr as he turns toward it and gives him a subtle nudge in the right direction once he's reached it.

He reaches out to take said chair and drop gratefully into it, before sparing the wormipede a pat on the back for the help. She accepts it as due, before coiling up in a surprisingly compact bundle around and behind the back legs of the chair.]

Thank you, [he says aloud to Lahabrea,] and she is; we already saw to that on the way over so she'll be all right for the next few hours.

[The...matter of his clothing, though, takes him a moment to process and connect with his dream-images of the Ascian in his black robes.] I--suppose it is. The right color, at least. One of my Bonded returned through the mirrors.

[He's in mourning. But better not to dwell on that.

He digs out his watch to avoid doing that very dwelling, then rummages through another pocket to locate several paper cune notes, each meticulously folded into a shape specific to its denomination. He offers the handful in the direction of Lahabrea's voice, wincing faintly as he brushes knuckles against the desk. Oops.

The money is a far more generous donation than might be strictly sensible but what's the point of money if you can't throw bunches of it at other people for good causes!]

Here, and for your time and efforts in doing this.