DRIP...DRIP...DRIP. Noah sat chained to the very same chair they had in their prison cells, unable to do anything but await his demise. The irony... He watched a scrawny mouse in the corner chewing on pieces of wood and foam, expecting food only to spit it out in frustration. He envied it's freedom.
At first, his brain was faced with the confusion of his reality, surrounded by the unfamiliarity. He defiantly wasn't at the palace anymore, this place looked abandoned and the coldness within its walls left him freezing more than he had been back at the palace.
He was surrounded by what he could presume were to be the four white walls, the colour of the walls looked dirty, unkept but what did he expect, it was a cell after all.
The scary part about this situation was when he had woken up, finding himself bound was frightening, so many times he had trained for this and every time he had passed it with easy but now... it was real, and his life hung on a string.
