Adebayo groaned as he rolled onto his back, the tightness in his muscles screaming in protest at the actions. He had had yet another fitful night, the voices whispering in the shadows, the corners of his room, around the chaos that was Miwor, persistent and insistant. They would not be ignored, could not be, but Ade did not want to bother Ashden or, gods forbid, Vanáriel or Lisselá. They needn't know about his lack of sleep, the way the shadows dogged him even during his waking hours.
Rolling from bed, the dark skinned Warden dressed quickly, fingers stumbling over the skin at his wrists and throat, a shake to them. He could feel the tiredness like weights beneath his eyes, so heavy a burden but one he would bear alone. Are closed the door to his rooms quickly, leaning against it for a moment, before making his way to the main room of the Warden's quarters, a small smile on his face as he smelt the bitter, acidic aroma that would, hopefully, take the edge off enough for him to go about his day.
"A cup, if you'd please. I'm not of the right height to reach them, I'm afraid." His words were quiet and formal, but there was a slight slur to them. Whether tired or burdened with something else he could not tell you. He quirked a dark brow when the other didn't answer right away, waiting for a response, impatience growing despite his attempts to not show it.