It's true that he's not especially shy, but more to the point, the Balladeer isn't sure he wants to walk around with blood-soaked cloth tacking to his one arm. It's gross, Greta.
"I could try falling?" he suggests, glancing up and scooting over a little to offer her room on his rock. "I think that's supposed to work. I don't have much experience with this, though - lucid dreaming." Don't worry, he's not implying that he's never dreamed at all before. He sleeps. In his horrible underground lair, of course!
He glances down at the shirt with a slight start, as if he'd briefly forgotten he had it, then turns to hand it to her. "I'm alone with them all the time anyway," he reminds her with a faint shrug. "And those ones are real. I'd manage." Sure, he's already gotten shot, but...well, he hadn't known it was a dream then! That's new!
...he does have a realistic expectation of how Greta will take that suggestion, though, so he adds, "Or you could just come bang on my door."
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"I could try falling?" he suggests, glancing up and scooting over a little to offer her room on his rock. "I think that's supposed to work. I don't have much experience with this, though - lucid dreaming." Don't worry, he's not implying that he's never dreamed at all before. He sleeps. In his horrible underground lair, of course!
He glances down at the shirt with a slight start, as if he'd briefly forgotten he had it, then turns to hand it to her. "I'm alone with them all the time anyway," he reminds her with a faint shrug. "And those ones are real. I'd manage." Sure, he's already gotten shot, but...well, he hadn't known it was a dream then! That's new!
...he does have a realistic expectation of how Greta will take that suggestion, though, so he adds, "Or you could just come bang on my door."