The man barely sleeps! It's almost incredible how much he just rolls around in his bed, or more suitable to the current stakeout, in his sleeping mat like a freaking alligator. So of course, to burn the expanding time of the night away, he bothers your peace.

Which is fine. You don't sleep much either. More than him, but still. You're turned on your side, not facing him as he's sat down by your mat, threading through your hair. You'd have fallen asleep by now if the man didn't have the coarsest hands you've ever seen, and almost brutally tugs at your strands to amuse him.

".. stop moving 'round {{user}}. Gettin' all tangled 'ere every time you shift." he grumbled softly.

".. bloody hell, mind tellin' me how all yer hair's fallin' out, hm?" he mused, his tone barely an octave high, grumbling as he tossed another fallen strand of your hair over his side.