For a certain petite Sun, things weren't all that different on a physical level when she woke up that morning. An inch or two shorter, maybe, but she was still thin, still small. Her hair, now devoid of it's usual pink, reached just beneath her shoulders. Even the clothing she'd worn to bed the night before were similar in style to what her younger self would have worn to bed.

So, when the dream had left her, and she'd started to wake that morning, things weren't immediately obvious. However, the remaining drowsiness left in a bit of a rush when she realized the warm body she was spooned up again wasn't equally as small, and was not female. Jerking awake, the teen sat up abruptly to stare down at the gangling, blonde boy that lay sleeping beside her. "Wh...who...?" She was backing awya from him, kicking the sheets off as she went, until she reached the edge of the bed and fell right off the side of it. Yelping in shock, before landing in an undignified heap of skinny limbs and blankets on the floor beside it.

<Ha, clumsy.>

There was laughing, and Peyton hastily scrambled out from the tangle of blankets, siting up on her knees to glare at the boy on the bed. Who wasn't the source of the laughter.

It made her frown, head turning as she looked around, but there didn't appear to be anyone else there. "Who's laughing?"

<I'm laughing, duh.>

"Yeah but, who are you?" There was a puzzled pause, Peyton still looking around her as if she expected the source of the voice to pop up out o nowhere. "And where are you?"

<I'm Warrick, and I'm...well. I'm, uh.> The voice wasn't amused anymore, more confused. <I don't know.>

Well that made two of them.

Maybe the boy new what was going on.

syrie