Nadayki has mostly lived either in space or in a squalid, overcrowded clan compound where he was generally considered a nuisance. He's easily impressed by fancy, and not bothered by general mess. He's prone to creating that himself. He looks around with a smirking satisfaction and looks toward the pictures, but he's running on too much stress to be able to pay attention to much that isn't just rough, powerful rushes of brain chemistry. So he does the most logical thing and, pausing briefly to set his gun to prop against the wall, drops into the bed that looks like it's in use, sprawling with a sigh and a grin at Mort.