[ Claude's not the kind of guy to avoid looking at a truth, be it comfortable or uncomfortable, ungainly, awkward, wonderful, terrible. Quite the contrary. But he is the sort of guy to sidestep whatever reaction the sight births, broken to flotsam by the eddies in his mind and carried downstream, or sinking. He is exactly the sort of guy to make a strategic retreat.

When Felix rubs at his face, hand dragged down in the periphery, Claude looks for longer than a glance this time, as the pull of those fingers eventually expose what looks a awful lot like a blush. The sky hasn't gotten that colored yet. Not just yet. Claude looks and looks away. Maybe it's embarrassment, maybe it's something else. This is one mystery he recognizes he's better off not chasing.

Even if he is disturbingly conscious of just where Felix's hand has come to rest. ]

Felix, asking for a break... in honor of this momentous and unlikely occasion, I humbly grant it.

[ Spoken with solemn overemphasis. Then following the direction of Felix's chin, Claude's smile both brightens and softens. ]

Ah, there he is! Raising his sleepy head.

[ Stretching his arms behind his head, then leaving one bent at the elbow, the other reaching high, wrist twisting to swing his hand in a half-circle of a wave. ]

Hail, Sun! We greet you, radiant one and dispeller of darkness. We thank you, giver of nourishment and warmth.

[ Incremental, this turn toward Felix, so he can bounce a wink his way. ]

Or, something like that.