Urianger is ready to protest that no, he's more than fine settled as he is on his back, but then there's a twinge low in his spine and a shifting of everything inside him that reminds him of how he's been having to sleep of late. On his side, with a pillow beneath his belly and another to wedge between his knees; so yes, he probably would do better in a slightly different position.

"There is wisdom in thy words," he says wryly, nodding just the once before patting at Thancred to lift up. When he has enough room to turn Urianger moves carefully onto his side, but not before taking the opportunity to open the fastenings of his skirt and let it fall away from his hips to puddle against the sheets. Bare but for his smalls, Urianger sighs out a breath of relief before adjusting himself so that he's propped up on an elbow:

"Although it may prove more difficult for thee, I fear."

Difficult is probably the wrong word — as if they haven't managed to please each other in far more odd, cramped conditions than this — and he raises the tail-end of a silver eyebrow as he peers down his body to when Thancred is hovering. Still mildly apologetic, he continues:

"Thou wilt manage?"