At somewhere near 5"11, Molly was no shrinking violet. The coat would probably very nearly fit. She took the coat automatically with a small, "Thank you," part of her brain still very much occupied with dungeon-town.

Dungeon. Town.

Wow, they could write books about that one.

And you know what, she'd much rather read them then be in them.

She settled the coat around her shoulders carefully, wincing a little as it brushes her still-sore wings. "Okay," she said, still thinking about it and signaling him that it was all right to turn around.