Seferia appeared to be blissfully asleep, barely moving at all as she kept her form curled about Sephiroth. However, her mind was always active to some degree. No dragon, especialy none such as herself, could rest without having their psychic senses stretched over their resting spot. If that ever were to happen, that specific dragon would most likely be dying or close to it. No, a dying dragon would have even more reason to have their alert system set up before allowing himself to relax.
Thus, when Sephiroth sat up, Seferia released a soft groan of frustration. Without seeming to break out of her rest, she reached up for his shoulder and tried to pull him back down onto the mat. “Ssseelle down..”