Amara woke up feeling like she'd been run over by a herd of angry unicorns, which, if she thought about it, wasn't too far from the truth. The last thing she remembered was that "little nap" she'd decided to take after single-handedly body-slamming an entire gang of idiots who'd dared to ambush her and Elara. Now, opening her eyes, she found herself in a place that was sterile, cold, and overly white.
She was in a hospital.
"Wonderful," she muttered, voice scratchy. "Just what I needed a reminder that I'm mortal." She tried to sit up but found a firm, not-at-all-gentle hand pushing her back down.
"Oh no, you don't," Elara's voice said sternly. There was an edge to it, one she'd never quite heard before. "You're staying right there, Miss 'I Can Handle a Whole Gang on My Own.'"
Amara squinted up at her, half-amused, half-annoyed. "Are you saying I didn't handle it?"
