Gaia
I wasn’t cold anymore. I opened my eyes, surprised to find a thick, scratchy blanket over my body. It was stiff and smelled like mould, but it was warm. I touched it, frowning with confusion. He had gotten me a blanket?
I sat up, squinting in the dark, listening through the noise of the waterfall. “Tynan?” I called. There was no response. Beside my bed sat another greasy paper bag, and any resolve I had had melted away. I snatched it up, ripping the flimsy paper apart and began stuffing cold, soggy fries in my mouth. I noticed on my third bite that the food had an odd metallic taste to it. I sniffed the next fry experimentally and wrinkled my nose. It was drugged. I dropped the food back in the bag, shoving it away from me. My stomach groaned in complaint
