Nadril's too frickin' cold and this is a really good patch of sun right here.

[He's aware that it hasn't been cold since they crossed the sound, but given how much time he spends going between the humidity of Wyver and the oppressive cold of Nadril, something in the middle is damn peachy.

His eyes droop closed for a second and then flutter open like he's having a hard time deciding how much to relax.]

Don't let me fall asleep, though. I still think this frickin' forest is gonna try and eat us.