His snort of laughter sounds a lot more real this time.

Alistair bends to unlace his boots. Once that's done, he toes them off and swings his legs up, scooting back to make himself comfortable against the headboard. There's nothing in the shadows; it's safe to tip his head back and look at the starlight filtering through the gaps in the roof. (And the gaps in the tree's leaves.) Just for a bit.

It really is a nice view.