She may not be able to reach the top of his head, but when her hair tumbles down, he reaches up a long arm to try to tweak a lock of it gently, grinning right back up at her. Looking up like that, he does have to shift on his feet a little, bracing himself for balance, but it's worth it for her expression.

"I don't know any stories about beds..." He pauses, blushing faintly. "At least none I'd care to share." He may be slightly awkward about it, but Horvath is no virgin.

He limps to the tent just a short ways off, eyeing the makeshift mattress/ Is that a bed for just one? How she can find a tree a comfortable sleeping spot, he'll never understand. But she can call him Seeker as long as she likes. It's not a bad nickname, one that applies beyond his current hunt for aglaophotis. "And I'm not much of a singer. Let me see... a light story, perhaps? Something short and silly..." He eases down onto the bed she's made, and rolls up his pantsleg to loosen the brace for the prosthetic.