In the background to this, Herbert, who had been napping on Jasper's back again on the trip over, has been staring into the fog at the sound of people crying all over this rotten version of the Ringmaster with a decent amount of disdain. Why would that ever work? She's clearly unwell. No amount of pleading with people in comas makes them wake up.

Bothering Jasper gets him dumped off her back again and he opens the tent realm at the very edge of the room, faced as away from the smoke as he can manage. The Ringmaster is full of decay and, he presumes, mainly expressing one half of her person...or however it is that the Miracles work. They're definitely not his field. But one thing is, and that is the defeat of death, the creation of new life. He knows what he needs to do.

In the tent, he puts together a syringe, and carefully fills it with his regenerative reagent from the barrel of it he left in this space over a month ago. He's not fool enough to believe that it will serve to completely defeat whatever it is the Huntsman did to her, but he feels confident it will be enough to tip the scales in the Ringmaster's favour. He steps out and closes the tent door behind him, bracing himself before walking through the fog towards the dragon, syringe at the ready.

This is it. This is his time.