Phoenix clears his throat as he gets used to being in clothes again, taking Arthur's hand to stand up on two wobbly legs. He doesn't let Arthur go, bracing himself on the man's shoulder so he can get settled.

"If it means getting out," he says quietly. "I could walk on coals."

His voice has changed a touch too. It's still rough, still has a rich undertone, but there's less of a hypnotic pull now. He runs his hand through his hair, ruffling it so it looks a bit less distinctive, and wraps his arm around Arthur's. He talks a big game, but it'll be a lot easier to walk if Arthur's helping him.

"Where next?" he murmurs.