[Cayde watches the wet cloak fall off the table (and narrows his eyes briefly at the wet slap of it hitting the floor) and sighs at the dampness left behind. He's slept in worse places for sure, but in most of those situations there was some kind of barrier between him and the gross, uncomfortable surface he was laying on. A cloak, for instance.]
[He goes easily, sprawling out on the table to make himself available as some kind of... Mattress or pillow or whatever, and looks up expectantly at Andal as he waits for him to make himself comfortable however he deigns.]
no subject
[He goes easily, sprawling out on the table to make himself available as some kind of... Mattress or pillow or whatever, and looks up expectantly at Andal as he waits for him to make himself comfortable however he deigns.]