The sound that wedged out of Amaya managed to be a good mix of derisive snort about the shop, stubborn grunt in knowing Irene would hardly need even a moment (so time was of the essence here), and a softer groan that only proved that point thanks to that gentle tracing.

"Lotta work to do," she insisted, stoutly and also a bit more husky than intended, but she at least reached her phone by now so there was the pretense of checking it to confirm the time. Later than her usual wake up time, but not as late as she would have liked to help provide a more considerable impetus to be hasty. Not that she wouldn't be trying, anyway.

"And look at that time!" she remarked, with another attempt to pull herself out of the snuggle snare. "That forge ain't going to fire itself!"