Velara's POV.
It's cold, dark, and deserted. My limbs ache, they feel heavy and tired. I try to raise my hand but nothing happens - I feel like I'm inside my body, but I don't have any control over it.
I take a deep breath. It feels like someone dragging a piece of sandpaper across my lungs and over my throat. I want to swallow - try to ease some of the discomfort caused by my attempt at breathing, but I have no spit in my mouth. Not a single drop.
My mind feels like fog - dense and blurry. It's like I'm watching my life through frosted glass. I strain myself trying to remember - remember what happened. Where I am. And how I ended up here.
The air smells clean. Too clean. Almost sterile, like antiseptic and disinfectant.
It smells like the medical wing of the pack house.
Slowly, it a
