River's energy is infectious. Ned might not be twirling on the outside, but he feels very nearly capable of it. He pads after her in his sock feet, hands clasped together behind him, grinning at her exuberance. The poke earns her a smile and a soft laugh; it's so unabashedly juvenile, so utterly little-sister-ish.

"Like a baby. Except that babies don't really sleep all that well, do they? Like a log, then, or other inanimate object." Ned gets out a loaf of bread that he'd baked the other day, cuts a slice for each of them. If things were different, he would make much more of a production of breakfast, pull out all the stops. But given the food situation, toast and jam and tea is as close to all the stops as he's going to get. "But I'm sure you already knew that."

His smile widens as he thinks about that, thinks about the reason why he'd slept better last night. He beams down at the kettle as he fills it.