Aila fluttered her eyes open and found herself staring up at a glass ceiling. Her mind was blank, Aila couldn't comprehend where she was, what she was doing before this, but all she felt was a throbbing headache like she had been drinking all night. Her eyes were glowing, and she covered them with a hand before gently rubbing at her temples with a low moan.
Aila rolled onto her side stiffly; she felt like she'd ran a marathon. Heck, she probably had and more. She felt so raw and dirty. She could tell there was blood on her somewhere from the smell. But her body groaned for her to go back to sleep, even in her dirty state.
But the wheels were sluggishly turning in her mind, telling her she was in an odd bed. One unfamiliar. But the silver-grey silk cover was calling to her as her head sunk deeper into the softest pillow.
