He leans his head against Cullen's: automatic, too, but in the way a compass seeks true north.

What Cullen's saying makes sense. And -- much as Alistair doesn't want to admit it, he knows he's a liability. They're at a very delicate point in his training: he can hold himself together in the field, but only just. Maker knows what might tip the balance from capable to not so much.

So he nods, eventually, silent. Wraps his arm around Cullen in kind.