"Ow?" She echoes back, appalled. "Ow? Oh - I'll show you ow, you unbelievable - !!"

With that, she throws herself knee first on the bed, bouncing only lightly before she snatches up the pillow not creased by his head and, for lack of anything harder, begins to punctuate her sentences with it.

"I said, what the fuck, John -" a blow to the chest "- why did I wake up -" she advances with an awkward, infuriated shimmy "- covered in skin -" a feathery thwack to the face "- after I specifically told you not to use your bloody magic fingers on me -"

Her shuffling forward through the mass of comforter and sheets has brought her close enough to slam the pillow against his bare chest with both hands, so she does, glaring so fiercely at him she's near to go cross-eyed, and that's when it's clear that on top of everything else that's so frighteningly askew, so is he.

The wave of her wrath crests and breaks. Her mouth screws up so hard her chin dimples as she glances from one orbital socket to the other.

"What happened to your eyes?" She asks, voice shrunken and unhappy.