"Hmmm ... thank you," Tristran mumbles, already lying against the grass and dirt, head propped up against his bag.

Sleep clouds his mind to a point of numbing it from any and all immediate thoughts pertaining to Yvaine, Victoria and Awkwardness, and instead are muffled into a very large blur of Confusion. But it's good enough for him to get some much needed rest that the usually uncomfortable ground does not seem so bad.