Castor pauses to think; her sense of time is still a little askew from the days and days and days of constant light and general time-fuckery that comes with dimension-hopping. She ends up counting back on her fingers for a moment before finally answering "Mayhaps a week after we put down that Dragon from Nastrandir? Can't have been any longer than that, at any rate. It's the last thing of any real import I remember, aside from pickin' back up after it."