Lion Head Mesa things replace things

thoughts drift aimlessly behind their closed eyes, not quite dreams but half-formed, pleasant things. except for the weird sensation they're being watched. when it continues just a second too long to be nothing sascha's own bicolored eyes snap open, landing on the mismatched gaze of the child currently staring at him.

sascha starts, an inelegant "gwah" escaping them as they scramble into a defensive crouch, the fun along their dorsal ridge raised. the last of their grogginess clears with adrenaline and they actually process the small form - some kid with a messed up foot, wagging its tail at them. not a threat. sighing, they relax and stretch back out, their expression smoothing out into an annoyed frown. "jeez, kid, nobody warn you not to creep up on strangers?"