Despite his apparent immortality, he is surprisingly delicate. In fact, were he not immortal, I wonder if he would have lived as long as he has. He tends to eat only the lightest of foods, and can tolerate only a few glasses of the most fragrant wine - given his terribly slender stature, that is not so surprising. Less worrisome, his bones were not made for sleeping upon the ground as we so often do while on the run, but upon a soft mattress - swathed in smooth, clean sheets instead of our rough blankets grey with the dust of the road; with a thick down pillow to support his graceful neck instead of simply another rolled blanket, or as sometimes happens, nothing at all.
Even the mattresses we have at our 'home' in Lea Monde are coarser than he would prefer, though he says nothing. I can tell, however, for usually he awakens with his neck and shoulders stiff, and it takes him a few minutes before he can stand without pain - though when he is needed, he can leap to his feet readily enough to defend against those who pursue us. When that is not the case, and we have the time, I sometimes start his day with a light massage over his neck and upper back; with hands such as his, he cannot rub away the stiffness himself. He never asks, but sometimes he does give me the courtesy of a murmured "thank you".
The only time he has a chance to sleep in the luxury he deserves is during our visits to the duke's manor, with all its richness. But there, his heart is more troubled than ever, for reasons he will not tell me, and sleep does not come easily. Despite his frailty, he does sleep better upon the ground with our brethren than he does in that place.
He made the comment once, teasingly (as always), that I am his favorite sleeping accommodations. I smiled slightly, and I pointed out that with my lean muscle, I cannot possibly be any softer than our mattresses. But he shook his head and laughed a bit, and told me it did not matter. And it is true, he does seem to sleep through the night easier when he is draped over the top of me...
I told him then, honestly, that he was my favorite blanket, though the gods know there is not enough of him to completely cover me. And he nodded; he knows as I do that there are different sorts of luxuries to be found.