Owen blinked, his senses groggy and his head still spinning. His vision adjusted slowly, the world blurry around him as bits of rock crumbled from his slick, scaled body. The ground beneath him felt strange—cool and smooth. He blinked again.
"Where… am I?" he muttered, his voice echoing in a new, deeper tone.
He slithered instinctively yes, slithered and paused, stunned by the motion.
Suddenly, a familiar voice filled the room, amusement clear in the tone.
"You're finally up, sleeping beauty."
Owen turned—or at least tried to. His long body coiled as his eyes locked onto the figure leaning against the wall, arms crossed and grinning.
"Axelius?"
"You've been out for a month and a half," Axelius said with a grin, pushing off the wall.
"A month and a half?! What the heck?!" Owen's voice cracked slightly. Then he paused, alarmed. Something felt… off. His head turned again, and he saw something long and black gliding alongside him with his movements.
