"It's rude to stare," came a cracking voice, Jarrith's eyes cracking open as the warlord turned over and eyed her almost sleepily. He slept lightly. Always had. One eye open, so to speak.

He sat up soon after, taking in a long breath and he stretched his stiff muscles, letting out a light groan. He turned to look back at her when he was comfortable again, eyes still heavy from sleep yet glittering with sharp awareness.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, giving her a small smile. "I hope so. We have a lot to talk about..." He cut himself short, blinking as he sniffed. He swung his legs over and stood, looking down at her.

"I don't think we ever introduced ourselves. I am Jarrith the Wolf-Claw," he said, holding out his arms in a 'look at me presentable to the public with my sleeping clothes on and my hair a beddy mess' kind of manner. "And what may I call you, little lamb?"