He's juts exhausted, okay? Just not doing his best... Summoner's body is trying so hard to just focus on what's currently going on with his wings right now and his mind is doing it's best to follow.

But now he's listening, and the small laugh that leaves Summoner is hard for him to stop as he hears Darkleer speak. Not at all laughing at his story, but at just his reaction in general. The lowblood listens to all of it though, slowly going to raise his head and look at the other troll with as much of a smile as he can.

Lysunder wants to know this, sure, he wants to know as much as Darkleer is willing to tell and more, but his point wasn't for him to tell him anything now. He appreciates it, but he also acknowledges that he'll probably barely remember his stories later when he's more awake and not crouched into himself. So he scoots forward just enough to put his hand back to his face, and though Darkleer has stopped speaking, he moves to cover the other troll's lips with his fingers.

"Naturally, Blue, all right?" He manages, his voice whispered, harsh, and his hand falls limply, pulling it back so it lands on his own lap. Eyes close again, trying to think through the heat beating into his skull.

"And when- when I can devote myself to hearing it."