John chuckled at the Doctor Who reference. It seemed like such a little thing now, but it was nice to see. As it became clear that they would leave for the floating land, which has been thoroughly established as an academy by now, he turned to Papyrus, who nuzzled his hand before unfolding a set of six wings with a mighty few cracks and groans. John beheld his broken creation, so willing to do what he wished. He sighed, unsure if he was proud or sad. Likely both.

He turned to Muse, who now held the visage of a Dragon. "I'll ride up myself. If all goes well -" [i]though I doubt it will[/i] "- I'll see you at the Academy." John took his place in Papyrus's back, feeling the creature adjust itself carefully. He felt the texture beneath his hand shift and mold, stretching its new limbs. Before he could say anything, Papyrus climbed effortlessly into the air, batting its wings viciously. The cracking sounds of the Puppet Dragon were lost in the roar of the wings and wind. Papyrus hovered carefully, unsure. "Wait for Muse," John told him, hoping it could hear him. The beast seemed to nod. John glanced down toward his companions and refined his fear of heights. [I]Of course. Riding a Dragon and the drop is what scares me shitless.[/i] He swore Papyrus was chuckling.