What is this, the second time you've woken up without sopor? Sleeping dry is turning into a bad habit. You've managed to avoid the worst dayterrors so far, but you really need to stop pushing your luck. Waking up with a warm body wrapped around you, and tucked up all perfect, and close is nice though. That can totally become a habit. You don't even make it past that thought before a soft purr starts bubbling into chest. It's safe, and warm here, in your moirail's (squee!) hive, and with her cuddling you in a not-quite-a-proper pile. Your eyes start drifting closed again as your contented rumble deepens. A few more minutes sleep couldn't hurt. You reach over and paw for Ur-Gar, trying to pull them back into the pile too, only to find they aren't there. Oh. Wellllll fuck. Your eyelids are still trying to convince you that getting up in the most terrible idea ever, but you can't leave them to run around without some kind of supervision. They're definitely smarter than you initially gave them credit for, but in an unfamiliar hive, in unfamiliar territory, that's even more of a risk. They are definitely smart enough to cause trouble. Plus, whoever had it in for Iridie might still be lurking around. That finally puts a kick to your fins, and you slowly, reluctantly untangle yourself from Iridie. And then you promptly trip over Ur-Gar in your half asleep state because they've made a nest of pillows right next to the couch on the floor. Ow. Gravity can bite you, seriously. Groaning, you push up on your elbows- then you have to groan again, and flop back down because you just spotted the perfect little square of mud stuck to the wall of Iridie's hive with certain unmistakable scribbles belonging to your floorlump cut into it. "Ur-Gar. Bro," you prod at their nose, "We gotta talk."