His kitten can be very stubborn. VERY.
So he's leaning over the edge of his bed, still half asleep around three in the morning when he would have awoken at two because Thank God the Second in Command let me have a day off these new training regimes are really starting to kick me in the butt and he's going to be in hell for another 72 hours if he cannot get the torn tendon in his leg to heal correctly. He needs to recharge his battery before he can rip the tendon off again and fix it though, or he'll surely release too much energy and end up burning part of himself out of existence. That would likely mean he'd lose a leg (or have to regrow the whole thing) in order to stop the spread of dissolving.
Being unbalanced could have it's disadvantages.
For a moment, the fuzzy memory of being chained to a wall and beaten senseless rises in the back of his mind. He shoves it down under the fog of slumber, grimacing subconsciously.
He directs his mind to a different thought, the one that has his sleep-addled brain realizing that he's only wearing his battle gear bottoms. He really should change out of them, considering that these are his last clean pair, since he hasn't gotten around to laundry. Or eating. But this is his first time sleeping in four days! He wants to reconnect with his bed! The pillows are practically begging him to sleep on them.
Okay, maybe he's dramatizing a bit, because he's not even lying on them, with his head hanging upside-down, knees bent at odd angles, legs tangled in the bed sheets, one arm thrown over his eyes.
"Mewww!" Comes a tiny, fierce roar.
He's so tired, he convinces himself he's having one of those dreams influenced by all the things that have gone on in the day. He fed Hazer this morning, and the little grey kitten had given him that cheerful wail. That's all.
Never mind the fact that this wail was more of listen to me I want to be petted and loved! than it was thank you for feeding me I love you forever!
Claws prick into the skin of his chest, and, with a startled cry, he gives off a burst of energy that has him and Hazer transported underneath his beloved's bed.
Well, there goes the last of my reserve... He goes to stand, still out of sorts thanks to his sleepiness, not thinking clearly thanks to Hazer's loving claw attack.
Bumping his head on the frame, he blinks down at the kitten, now curled up smugly on his collarbone. He sighs as he adjusts his shoulders, deciding to wait until he's better rested to transport himself back--because, yes, he is that lazy right now. So, with his long legs stretched out from under the bed, he snuggles up on his boyfriend's floor, inhaling his scent and some rather stale air, more than happy to nap under there.
Being unbalanced could have greater advantages.