Eames wraps his arms around himself and turns his back to the fire, trying to get warm. He feels like death warmed over and that's not even a good joke right now.

"I get a feeling that you're not that eager to talk about it," Eames says with a fond little snort. "You did bring it up, though."

He gives the lad a curious quirk of his brows before he asks: "Is that usual for the world you hail from or is it something particular to you? That things follow you out of dreamspace?"