"Don't worry about it," he groused at last, relegating concerns over a tattered piece of clothing as secondary to concerns over a tattered mind. There was a brief, green flash of magic, and they turned to see a very annoyed Crimson had escaped her binds of woven cloth. Handy frowned at her. Did she really need to use old magic to get out of some tangled sheets? Pulling himself up and trying to ignore the armour cramp that was the consequence of anyone stupid enough to sleep in full plate, he gathered the rest of his gear. The sun was out, and he doubted he was going to have enough time to lie in before his next duel started.