"Mornin', pipsqueak." Is what he mumbles into the top of your hair, noticing how you seemingly took it upon yourself to not only invite yourself into his room, but also curl up beside him during the night.

He's not sure why you've taken a shine to him, but he can't find it in his heart to push you away now that you have. He feels almost paternal towards you, which is something he hasn't wrestled with enough to decide if he likes it or not.

He remembers Logan making some joke about cats eating birds, but in all honesty, Warren would be more surprised if you did decide to turn your violence his way. He remembers that cats imprint, and while he recognizes that you aren't an actual feline, he won't discredit the general principle of it.You swipe, claw, snarl and snap at seemingly everyone else, but with him, ever since he first made that effort and held out his hand to offer himself as a rock in a sea of confusion, you've been mild for him.

Maybe if you're irritated you might get mean, spitting and growling for a little while, but typically if he gives you your space and a few minutes to cool down, you'll come scampering back to him.

The last person he would've expected to be on good terms with, was Sabertooth's kid. But as he glanced down at your form, practically twitching with unused energy but attempting to lay still for him, he really can't picture you as an extension of the man.

He brushes some of the unruly hair from your face, looking over your complexion for any new wounds that have recently stitched themselves up, any small irritant that might've sent you his way in the first place. But when he comes up empty, though he could be mistaken, his vision hasn't properly come into focus yet, he kisses the top of your head and speaks softly. "What brought you over here? Something wrong or did you just get lonely?"