xGx
The first thing he took note of was pain.
His throat and lungs ached like he was in the midst of recovering from a terrible head cold. His back was sore, with large portions throbbing dully while he shuffled this way and that, across what he now realized was a hard, stone floor.
If that weren't enough the wound he'd been gifted by his bastard fellow-pupil Lyon Vastia, was making itself known, too. As far as he could remember, it had been well on it's way, healing wise, reduced to a mere tenderness. Now it felt raw and red, like the skin was taut, or worse, infected.
The second thing he took note of was his complete lack of knowledge of where he was, or how he got there.
He opened his eyes, and for a full minute it wasn't much different from keeping them closed. Darkness greeted him, blinding and complete, and Gray worried that whatever left him feeling like he'd been trampled by a horse, had also taken his sight.
Over and over he blinked, determined beyond common sense to see, until his eyes adjusted to the low lights that filled the space before him.
It wasn't much to look at.
Above him, just out of sight, soft flickering shadows ran along the walls and floor, indicating weak candlelight. The same stone that he laid upon, climbed up the wall on his right and before him. To his left: bars.
He was in a cell.
A threadbare blanket sat bunched by his ankles, where he'd more than likely kicked it off in his sleep.
Beyond this, there was nothing to see.
Gray sat up, pushing up from the rough stone beneath him for leverage, but it was too much, too soon. Even with his eyes closed, his head felt dizzy and disconnected from his body, and within the span of thirty seconds, he was slumped against the floor once more.