The dragon joyride didn't help John's migraine, or his stomach. And the abrupt landing didn't help either. Leaving the others to their own devices, with Muse practically dancing for one of the newcomers, he stepped aside subtly, keeping it of the way. He dug though his pockets, the noises playing daggers on his mind. He finally located a bottle of painkillers, only to discover the contents to be missing. Grumbling in annoyance, he tossed the bottle aside, only to hear it rattle slightly. He frowned and grabbed for the bottle, finding just enough for one dose. John shook his head. The migraine was getting to him. Not that the fact that he was in a world of fiction helped. He chuckled slightly. Seems like there was a lot of stuff but getting right now.

After downing the pills, he sat for a moment before looking up at the great creation above them. No way that this was real. But then, he just got a ride from a transforming dragon-person.He focused back on the conversation before him, which appeared to be deteriorating quickly. John stood and stretched, before approaching Muse and his apparent friend. "I'm not sure what it's worth," he said as he walked toward them, "but I'm fairly confident in placing my word on Muse here." He realized he had started running his die through his fingers. "Even if he can turn into a dragon on a whim. Speaking of which," he continued, gesturing to the behemoth in the sky, "I believe we should focus on getting over there."