For whatever it's worth, he wasn't really meant to get much from it other than the sense of being there. The fact that it seems to have relaxed him a bit is a not-entirely-unforseen bonus.

"Okay." She'll have to be extra specific for this one, elsewise he might not get anything useful from it. Deciding just to focus on steady flight instead of the more complicated task of landing, she shuts her eyes again.

What she calls up is a mix of memory and imagination. She's a tiny pipistrelle, not much larger than Peter's bat shape, and she's on the wing above a glassy-smooth lake. Her wings scoop at the air, and she focuses on the sensation, on the exact way her muscles must flex to flap her wings and move her where she needs to go.