A slow grin spread over his face at her joke. They were much easier to catch, with her: the dwarf's dark eyes sparkled with mischief and there was a mirthful edge to her grin--not to mention it wasn't difficult to tell from the words themselves. The guard in question had moved on, wanting the chance to stretch his legs and satisfied that Ordhan would take up the post at the guard house.
"No," he admitted. "Not nightmares, tonight: only thinking too much. I was hoping this would clear my head," he motioned to the inside of the guard house, "but no luck. I am glad you came." Not only did her presence cheer him, as it ever did, but that she would seek out his company. It was a new and strange thing to be looked for, rather than simply being another silent suit of armor in the background.
Even in full armor he could feel the bite of the night's chill on his face. "Here," he said, crouching to her height and drawing his cloak around her shoulders. It was worn and starting to look shabby--Ordhan found no point in replacing something that still had use in it--but it was still warm. "It is cold out, tonight," he explained needlessly. As he tugged the thick cloth into place and smoothed a rebellious fold that had formed over one of her shoulders, he realized that some people didn't like to be fret over, and hoped that Falina would not resent the gesture or think he was treating her like a child. In truth, it was as much a part of his nature as breathing. If Conlan had tried to go on patrol without a cloak, Ordhan would have probably made him wear one, as well.
The knight hesitated, still half-kneeling, before offering, "Did you want to talk about it? It can help, sometimes."