That was not the look of someone bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to get back to work. That looked like someone about to fall asleep on the side of a hotspring.

Did spirits here even sleep?

The thought got a bit of a chuckle out of him. He didn't have a particularly nice laugh - it was soft and cold like bitter, mid-winter snow. But it was, at least, genuine.

"I won't stop you," he said, "but it's not remiss to have a moment to yourself if you wish to relax."

People's troubles weren't flying off anywhere, after all.