XXIII
Alvia woke up to a warm, licking sensation on her face.
She opened her eyes, coming softly from a dreamless slumber.
Pepper greeted her, licking her cheek.
She smiled, wrapping her arm around the dog.
Her head hurt. She explored her hair and found a thick knot on the back of her head. It was tender to the touch, and she grimaced.
The smell of green tea entered her nostrils and she sniffed.
Where was she?
Slowly, her eyes focused and she noticed her surroundings. She was in a sparse apartment. She was lying on a couch. Wood floors. Crooked blinds that diffused the sunlight in slats across the room. The walls were painted blue, and a light fixture shaped like a fish hung over her.
An elven home, though it was a strange one.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was the barista.
