He wakes silently, but somewhat suddenly - his only movement the blinking of his eyes as he adjusts to the lower light in the room, the small fire having only the hint of embers remaining. He can sense that she is still asleep in his arms, so he does not move his body, merely shifts his head to allow both ears to listen closely to what he can hear beyond this space.

voices, somewhat indistinguishable at first. footsteps on dirt and sand. somewhere, a person fetches water from the river, pouring it into a wooden bucket. animals moving from their pens. a child laughing. a stronger voice, yet still hushed, muttering about the violent attack on the raiders, the work of the witch and the demon she summoned to run them off - though some were killed, their bodies left for the scavengers. an infant cries, soothed by a woman. mother? sister? he isn't sure. another chitter of conversation, again about the witch and her demons, laying together in some form of 'ritual sacrifice'...

It is that last part that causes him to huff a laugh quietly, amused.