Hundreds of years? Unbearable. Personally I've always imagined my nine months to have been interminably dull. Nothing but my parents arguing and new age whale music to keep me occupied.

[As if all this is normal, really, even if there's something deep in Prior's psyche lightly screaming about how crazy this is. He's here, so either it's real or there's some kind of traumatic brain injury he'll never come back from: might as well make the best of the hallucinations.]

Are there many dragons in England, then?