Dahlia comes to slowly. The first thing she feels is the delicate fur fabric on her cheek and the warm feeling of having her entire body cocooned by something warm. She sighs and snuggles deeper into the covers, content for the moment to lie in stupor. The next thing she notices is the smell. The smell of damp and male and the musty scent of a material kept too long in boxes. Her nose wrinkles at the smell and in an instant, painful clarity descends on her mind. She sits up sharply, the covers falling from her shoulders to her lap and her head spinning from the sudden movement. She closes her eyes for a second to orient herself and when she opens them she looks at her unfamiliar surroundings in shock.
She is still alive. She is a bit surprised at the realisation and after a moment she re
