"Guess the sleep's makin' me look like part of the living again."

The misunderstanding actually does get full-on grin out of him, good-natured if still quite tired. The horse, inversely, manages to look equally unhappy as paste is slathered onto its head. A hoof paws the ground.

"I was bein' chased by spirits, hungry for warm flesh and blood. Didn't follow me here, though. Not yet."