(1st of Summer)
Her head felt like cotton, the air around her a thick fog that obscured her thoughts upon the first few moments of awakening. Where am I buzzed through the stagnant air, and her eyes fluttered open to find herself in so very strange surroundings. A dim candle's flickering served as the only source of light for the small windowless room, and slowly she rose to her knees. Absently she rubbed her wrists, the red mark of a rash the only clue as to how she wound up here, and shiver ran up her spine as she realized just how cold the floor felt against her knees, her body finally starting to wake up itself. With it came another pain, centered in the back of her head, a pounding, pulsing pain that radiated throughout her mind, and she winced remembering the blow to the head she had taken only faintly. Fingers dexterously massaging her temple, she pulled herself slowly to her feet, but found them still numb and ended up falling flat back against the ground. Her mouth opened to cry out in pain, but no sound came out, and a sliver of fear ran through her as she wondered if her captors had somehow found a way to rob her of her voice. Truly they did not possess that kind of power, or ability for cruelty she hoped, and her eyes glistened at the thought of never being able to sing again.
Like the rest of her body, her vocal cords had simply yet to wake up yet, and as she continued to try and make any noise, gradually it came back to her, though it sounded retched at first, hoarse, and wet. All the attempts caused her to launch into a fit of coughing, and she clutched her seizing gut, tears of pain wetting her cheeks, praying that this would all be over soon. A loud, tremendous cough signified the end of the fit, and slowly she leaned against the wall, her breaths shallow and rapid as she tried desperately to catch her breath and figure out just what was going on. She didn't even know how she got here, much less what city she was in, and the sheer volume of what was unknown frightened her. Corrien slowly drew in her legs, wrapping her arms around them, finding comfort in the position, and rested her chin against her legs, every muscle in her face trying not to breakdown, trying not to show fear to her captors but she could feel her resolve weakening as only a haunting silence rewarded her stubbornness, and she felt like just letting it all out then and there while no one was around. A light click and a sliding of wood on stone drew her eyes upwards as a door she hadn't noticed before opened on the ceiling, revealing blackness beyond, and slowly a booted foot descended downwards to step on the first step of the staircase leading downwards. It was him, it was her captor.
Her head felt like cotton, the air around her a thick fog that obscured her thoughts upon the first few moments of awakening. Where am I buzzed through the stagnant air, and her eyes fluttered open to find herself in so very strange surroundings. A dim candle's flickering served as the only source of light for the small windowless room, and slowly she rose to her knees. Absently she rubbed her wrists, the red mark of a rash the only clue as to how she wound up here, and shiver ran up her spine as she realized just how cold the floor felt against her knees, her body finally starting to wake up itself. With it came another pain, centered in the back of her head, a pounding, pulsing pain that radiated throughout her mind, and she winced remembering the blow to the head she had taken only faintly. Fingers dexterously massaging her temple, she pulled herself slowly to her feet, but found them still numb and ended up falling flat back against the ground. Her mouth opened to cry out in pain, but no sound came out, and a sliver of fear ran through her as she wondered if her captors had somehow found a way to rob her of her voice. Truly they did not possess that kind of power, or ability for cruelty she hoped, and her eyes glistened at the thought of never being able to sing again.
Like the rest of her body, her vocal cords had simply yet to wake up yet, and as she continued to try and make any noise, gradually it came back to her, though it sounded retched at first, hoarse, and wet. All the attempts caused her to launch into a fit of coughing, and she clutched her seizing gut, tears of pain wetting her cheeks, praying that this would all be over soon. A loud, tremendous cough signified the end of the fit, and slowly she leaned against the wall, her breaths shallow and rapid as she tried desperately to catch her breath and figure out just what was going on. She didn't even know how she got here, much less what city she was in, and the sheer volume of what was unknown frightened her. Corrien slowly drew in her legs, wrapping her arms around them, finding comfort in the position, and rested her chin against her legs, every muscle in her face trying not to breakdown, trying not to show fear to her captors but she could feel her resolve weakening as only a haunting silence rewarded her stubbornness, and she felt like just letting it all out then and there while no one was around. A light click and a sliding of wood on stone drew her eyes upwards as a door she hadn't noticed before opened on the ceiling, revealing blackness beyond, and slowly a booted foot descended downwards to step on the first step of the staircase leading downwards. It was him, it was her captor.