He’d intended to offer his own service as first watch, and her swifter offer prompts a narrow twitching of his lip. Something imperceptible in the darkness, though he spares no lingering thought for it.

Instead he finds some miserable, cold corner to press his back into, upright in his seating, and— drawing his thin cloak around his shoulders— lets his eyes drift shut after a moment or two.

And wakes sometime just before dawn.