/Verona/
A hand crawled down her leg, a clammy hand, very wet and randy. Even while asleep she still was able to know when something was amiss and true to her instincts, it turned out true.
The first thing the redhead recognized was that she was no longer in the forest, and neither was she in a tent. Bile rose to her throat as it suddenly struck her that maybe this wasn't a dream, that truly Razhal was with her.
She scrambled off the squeaky excuse of a bed, thankful that the rusty thing didn't break, and climbed down. Her bare feet touched the cold floor and the iciness struck her leg with great ferociousness. But the serpent bit down the pain and using the headrest, was able to stand up fully but on wobbly legs.
There was no one in sight and the house was made out of bamboo raft. It was a typical farm which somehow began to cast doubt on the possibility of the unknown rescuer being the Lycan.
