Haunted Wood whistlin' past the graveyard

She huffed, brow furrowing and ear flicking as her face was assaulted with warmth and motion, roused from sleep quickly, blinking at the boy as he withdrew, taking the opportunity to attempt to slip back to sleep. The second assault on her face dissuaded her quickly, however, and she made another small noise that might have been angry. The sound of his voice, booming out across the cold as it did, had her lift her head, twisting slightly to get a better look at him, fur on her face spiky and twisting every which way. 

Resentment at not being allowed to succumb to the exhaustion knotted in her gut, but aware that she was powerless to simply ignore the command had her keep silent. Perhaps, had she been more aware of herself in those moments, she would have realized the irony of captive-turned captor-turned captive, but instead quietly resigned to whatever questions the boy had for her. Memories were hard to dredge up, but they came slowly now, piecing together to form a better picture of the boy before her. "cassiopeia.", came her soft answer, resigned, tired. She might have asked him the same thing, but her mind felt too heavy to form questions, let alone retain their answers.