"Don't thank me yet," says the Dragon tersely. "What I've given you is imperfect and impermanent, just as requested. Ordinarily, perfection requires months or years of work and ingredients I no longer have."

He does not look up from his writing as he grabs another hunk of peasant bread and helps himself. A smooth gesture once he's finished, and he wipes his mouth with a conjured handkerchief. He washes it down with a glug from a plain silver cup before resuming his instructions.

"Its use is straightforward enough that a simpleton could manage it. An earring is less apt to get lost no matter what you're doing, but fleshy contact with the ear lobe is technically all that's required to get it activated. Only wear it when you need it, or you will drain it too quickly. I'll guess a charge will last a week, at best, before I'll need to infuse it again." The Dragon completes his writing with a loud scritch, scritch and replaces the quill in the inkwell. He braces himself against the lab table to keep his posture aloft and regards Kit with critical, steely eyes.

"Don't lose it, because there won't be a second. No excuses--unless you manage to get your entire ear shorn off," he adds caustically. "Not that I'll make a second regardless."