[ asura cannot bring himself to rebuke her any more than he has, and upon her insistence he watches her move. sighing, he resigns himself to humor the woman, finding no harm in acquiesce because and harm short of her putting a knife between his ribs would be on him to cause. his spiritual essence has been dormant since his arrival here, his locus missing or dead. he's honestly not sure how he's still alive at all, except that he feels strangely mortal now.
regardless, the blood rage is unlikely to find him. should be safe enough to share her bed.
he barely wears clothes to begin with, but he does shed his robes so they don't get tangled in the night, draping it over the first piece of furniture within reach. he's not a particularly fastidious man. he then twists his hair into a tighter braid, pulling it over one shoulder much as she had done with hers just earlier, and ties it in place. ]
I'm really a poor bedmate, [ he warns one more time, but then flops down unceremoniously as bidden. he keeps himself atop the covers, unaccustomed to beds and blankets alike. he normally sleeps on bedrolls over hard ground or even sitting up wherever he happens to be. the softness of the mattress gets a wrinkle of his nose, but he settles himself in all the same.
and he stares at the ceiling, fingers drumming against his thigh. he makes an effort not to sleep in spite of her warm invitation, knowing well that he is a tumultuous sleeper even on his best nights, and on his worst...
a nightmare could well put gilia in danger. he would not like to risk that. ]
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regardless, the blood rage is unlikely to find him. should be safe enough to share her bed.
he barely wears clothes to begin with, but he does shed his robes so they don't get tangled in the night, draping it over the first piece of furniture within reach. he's not a particularly fastidious man. he then twists his hair into a tighter braid, pulling it over one shoulder much as she had done with hers just earlier, and ties it in place. ]
I'm really a poor bedmate, [ he warns one more time, but then flops down unceremoniously as bidden. he keeps himself atop the covers, unaccustomed to beds and blankets alike. he normally sleeps on bedrolls over hard ground or even sitting up wherever he happens to be. the softness of the mattress gets a wrinkle of his nose, but he settles himself in all the same.
and he stares at the ceiling, fingers drumming against his thigh. he makes an effort not to sleep in spite of her warm invitation, knowing well that he is a tumultuous sleeper even on his best nights, and on his worst...
a nightmare could well put gilia in danger. he would not like to risk that. ]