[He looks up with a small groan of frustration. Must be more tired than he realized; he hadn't even noticed she was awake in the dim light. It makes him feel uncomfortably vulnerable, being caught unaware in a situation like this. While the satyr wasn't an enemy, she wasn't yet an ally either - letting his guard down too much could only lead to problems later.

But he could afford to be conversational, at least.]

It wouldn't be comfortable, certainly, but it isn't as though it could get much worse overnight.

[She does have a point, though, and so he continues struggling with the straps. He finally manages to undo the buckles and starts unlacing next. Redesigning the socket would have to be a priority on the next iteration - if there were going to be more nights like this, he'd need to be able to remove the prosthetics more easily.

Finally, he's able to slip it off, and he examines the knee joint with a frown.]

Worse that I thought, but not beyond repair. Could you pass me that hammer? Should have grabbed it before I sat down.