[Talk about a mood killer. Iskandar needs only one look at that facepalm to start laughing hysterically.]

And that is our third? Fourth? I lost count. [He reaches across the jumbled mess that once was his bed to caress Waver's cheek.] Fifth? We're hopeless.

[He weaves his fingers through Waver's hair.]

I think the local invention of futon is exactly what we need. I would have proposed a steel bedframe but I'd rather not end with a metal rod through my kidney on the not so improbable occasion we managed to break that one too. The wooden ones disintegrate into less deadly debris.