"All right."

Suiting action to words, Alistair stretches along his bedroll, catching one of Cullen's hands as he does.

(Still light out, but -- Alistair didn't sleep while they were out in the sun earlier. Hasn't slept well for days. He can feel himself falling back into that old pattern, where he'd grab whatever hours he could here and there.

And if Cullen wants to take it easy tonight -- well. No time like the present.)