It's... odd. There was the distinct sensation of an arm wrapping around him a moment ago, and a hand pulling him back- but when Snow White looks up, it's only his own hand that's gripping the anchor line, and as the memory begins to fade again, the weightlessness of the Cloud is returning.

The Hilda Garde is there, drifting. It's easy to pull them back onto the deck, but as the last vestiges of the dream fade, there's- the vaguest impression of startlingly blue eyes, and a voice, barely a whisper, but just there.

Thanks.