Her eyes wanted to open in reaction to the light, even if the rest of her just wanted to get back to sleep. With a low groan, she found herself squinting and blinking into blindingly low-angle morning rays that were, mercifully, at least coming in slightly from the side instead of fully head-on. It took a supreme effort of logical processing to realize she could just bring a hoof up and mask out the visual intrusion, and greater effort still to commit to moving a limp foreleg up in front of her muzzle. Plopping it down roughly, Honour found herself sinking back into blissful deep sleep.