"I sure you would," Luka doesn't imagine Kaivodulin would see him, or someone like him, misused on a quiet life. He stretches out and sighs, his hips and back creaking softly. He pulls the covers over her hip and then pins them there with his thigh. His hand comes to rest on her cheek, his fingers carding through her hair. He speaks softly, all but lulling her to sleep. "You in a quiet life, that's a little harder to imagine. Short people are never given to quietude, it's antithetical. You're coiled up ready to spring every day, it's unnatural for you to be timid."