In the end, we did not start with the Black Hound for transport.
"Husband," Madonna said, "The Black Hound is weighing anchor."
I sent group invites to Gamilla and Kismet, accepted the one Madonna had sent. She sighed into an embrace.
"You are inadequate as a biological source of warmth. Grow larger and hotter." she said.
"My transformations don't work that way." I said.
"Then infect yourself with a fever, or something."
I threw part of my new cloak over Madonna, and sent a visual of the Black Hound.
Kismet said.
Kismet dropped.