Dain's lost his hat, or at least the scarf he's been using as a hat, somewhere in the scuffle. No doubt it's buried in snow. He'll find it later.

"Johannes Dain," he replies in kind, shaking Lorne's hand. "I go by Dain, most days. It's a pleasure to meet you." He sounds like he means it, too, rather than simply following an introduction script; it's always a pleasure to meet someone who doesn't take themselves too seriously. Gods know he gets more than enough of that in Fairport.

"... that I what?" For a moment Dain looks utterly confused, following Lorne's gesture to the disturbed snow all around them. "That I lost my scarf? That's quite -- oh." Right. Of course. Maireglenne, Path of Light, penance, witchcraft. Several minutes of carefree fun in the snow had gone quite a ways in erasing Dain's memory. Back to the real world now; he straightens, loses the smile a little.

"Life is difficult enough without teaching children they're never allowed to enjoy themselves," he explains. "We usually try not to let our hair down, as it were, but... I admit, sometimes I can't pass up the opportunity."