So, gather up your jackets, move it to the exits

He hadn't even realized he had been scratching his knee. A nervous tick at the way this encounter had gone. As she drew his attention to it, he glanced down, and placed the leg gently back down to the ground. "Your right, wouldn't want to make a mess of your work" he agreed somewhat apologetically. She had just taken the time to patch him up. He flashed her a 'let's forget this misunderstanding ever happened' grin, and nodded slowly at her decision. Alright, he could spend a night with the Armada then. The pack was allied with Abaven, and it shouldn't cause any sort of hassle.

"...are you sure?" He asked, eyeing her tiny frame dubiously. Surely if he did that, she would topple right over and take him with her. Cautiously, he shuffled a little closer and leaned just a little against her. Enough to take off some of the pressure on the rest of his legs. He half expected her to fall even with this little bit of pressure, and eyed her carefully. He cleared his throat then. "So uh. That conversation never happened, right?" He clarified. He'd heard the Warlord could be a scary sort. The last thing he wanted was for the man to think he'd been out here upsetting his healer.