Islinda woke up, cold. Very, very cold. The kind of cold that seems to pierce her very bones, the chill relentless, and made her teeth chatter uncontrollably. She opened her eyes to an unfamiliar hut, a single illuminating the room, offering little warmth against the icy air. As if that wasn't enough, a bitter draft swept through the open door, sending another shiver down Islinda's spine.
Where the hell was she? The last thing she recalled was… oh fuck, Elena.Her heart raced as panic surged through her. She attempted to sit up, only to fall back with a painful thud. Of course, Elena would not risk her being free.
She looked down only to realize that her limbs were bound tightly with strange rough twigs, entwined in a way that left no room for movement. It looked deceptively fragile, but Islinda quickly discovered they were as unyielding as iron.
