She doesn't reach for that closing door, thankfully for them both. Even as he pulls it shut, probably slower than he should, whatever's out there still whispers in his ear. Don't leave me behind, it begs him, a little desperate. You did it once before, how can you turn your back twice? Not on your partner in crime, your better half, your--...

The door slams shut a little too hard, the latch clicks, and it's much softer suddenly but -- not gone.

Archeval's eyes flick to the woman again as he gives a little shrug.

"...The dead, among others," he says softly.

"Apt, I suppose. I imagine someone's else dead are exactly who is trying to lure us out right now. This whole region seems to breed restless spirits."

He looks her up and down for a second, finding his own rattled nerves still reflected aptly in the look on her face. For a second, he doesn't know what to say. Part of him still wants to open the door back up and plunge straight into the cold forest, in fruitless pursuit of his heart's desire, and -- somehow he thinks she might feel the same. Like calls to like, indeed.

"......standing here won't do us any good, I imagine. If you can't sleep either--..."

He hesitates one more time as he brushes past her, awkwardly glancing back. Unused to offering little kindnesses like this, particularly to a stranger. But. It's too quiet and too loud a night to want to spend it alone.

"Come with me. I'll... make tea or something."