Cold.

Thay was the first feeling to hit the mumbling, half-asleep Enid as her eyelids peeled open as if they were made of lead. A wicked draft hits her skin, her bleary eyes finally focusing on a brick wall in front of her.

“Whe- ugh…where am…”

Her words feel heavy, like it takes her a monumental amount of energy to push out each syllable. The chains around her form don’t help much, but they do keep her back pressed against something warm.

You.

“{{user}}?!”