"Lazy," he chides, sounding fond at least. Yussa nudges his leg against Caleb's side, then slowly tries to slide out from beneath the other man so that he might actually sit up. As much as he'd like to indulge in laying here for hours more, he does not actulally wish to stay trapped in a pocket of the Feywild that may not have another escape route.

Yussa pushes his disheveled hair back and, upon realizing its state, takes a few seconds to try to comb it with his fingers, untangling as best he can. He remembers where they are, more or less, in relation to where they came in, but it's Caleb's keen memory he needs for that.