At Peeta's voice, she wakens almost instantly. Prior to coming through the rift, a wake-up call meant that you got up fast. Lives depended on it - or might depend on it, so she treated every wake-up call as something urgent. All the Riders did.

Life in Manhattan isn't half so strenuous in that regard, but old habits die hard. Daine sits up sharply before she even registers where she is, prompting Shadow to make a hasty (to the point of undignified) leap off of the bed. "Oh." She blinks at the cat as he stalks to the middle of the floor and commences grooming himself in a generally offended manner. Then she looks down at Peeta, belatedly realizing that the warm body she'd been pillowed against wasn't Sarge. "Sorry," she says sheepishly, scraping her hair back. "Must've thought you wa- were one of the dogs."

Which, now that she's said it, doesn't sound like the most flattering thing in the world. It's no insult from her perspective, but Peeta's not Edgar. Best to change the subject, which is easy when she actually glances at the clock and sees what time it is. What happened to sleeping in shifts? "Did you sleep?" she asks him, brow furrowed.