Landfall
"Because involving fairies absolutely the most ridiculous way to expect to get anything even remotely productive done. If they aren't toppling kingdoms over baby shower invitations, they're giving ten-year-olds the power of flight so they can fight pirates. With swords. While flying. At age ten." He leaned over to one side, his chin planted on one fist, looking nonplussed. "She's already invited a Wonderlander, and a Rabbit, at that. If it is some kind of scheme, She's either desperate, or the plan is probably, to use the most precise language, 'cockamamie.'"
His lip curled into an easy smirk, his eyes drooping lazily. "I can easily see wanting to collaborate with a sorceress who can turn aside the Jabberwocky. Again... no mean feat. But the both of us?" He gave a small shrug. "If the plan isn't cockamamie, there must be a motive beyond utility practicality. If there is a plan in the first place... which..." his forehead furrowed into a worried crease as he glanced out the window, then down at his watch again, clicking the cover open, watching the ticking second hand quiver across the face. His sentence trailed off as he seemed to concentrate on the passing seconds with a degree of attention that the mere passage of time probably didn't warrant.
He shook himself out of the awkward pause, his eyes squeezing shut as he gave a little flick of his head, as if shaking off some kind of dazzling flash. "I'm sure she just got caught up in the dramatics," he reassured, catching the bobbled conversation before it hit the floor. "Or working on her pitch. Suspecting we're about as skeptical as we actually are."