He exhaled, sitting himself back down on the edge of the bed when she waved at him. Her comment on Ysaryn had him nodding in agreement; even the elf's tongue was sharper than a few blades he'd come across. As she explained her current emotional state, listing the need for company and the possible need to punch a tree to pieces, Ruli watched her carefully. "You're not here to yet at me, then, are you?" He asked. "The elf next door might be more more satisfying if you need to throw punches, too. So long as you offer to spar in the snow."

Ruli shook his head, not understanding the excitement about the frozen waste outside. As Kire continued, he considered the question, folding his hands in his lap. "I'm not entirely certain its caught up to me, yet." He admitted after some thought. "Though, while you were resting after the gate, I kept looking up. To your sky. Your constellations. It made me feel ... a little homesick."

He pursed his lips, glancing at the wine on his table as if cursing it for his loose lips. After a moment, he glanced back down to his hands, grateful for the thick clothing helping to keep him warm. "It might hit me a few days from now, when I wake up back home to the sound of the sea and be reminded of the roar of the gate while you destroyed it."
His head tilted back at last, and he peered at her. "I'm glad you survived that." Ruli admitted. "I doubt anyone would have forgiven me if it had failed."