[color=fff200]Leval Lamrue[/color]

Leval had always been a deep sleeper, so when someone picked him up onto a gurney and through the portal, he did not wake up. His dreams were a myriad of flashing images: a pair of fangs striking forward, a cat surrounded by bowls of food, a dark shadow rising up from the ground. However, the most distinct image was that of a strand of a thick, white substance. He looked up, the same strands of white reached up to the sky, criss-crossing itself forming a complex pattern. [color=fff200]'A Weave?'[/color] Leval touched it with the tips of his fingertips, it felt smooth and rough at the same time. His brow furrowed in confusion and he attempted to pull back his hand. His fingers would not come off the web. He pulled harder, yet his fingers still refused. [color=fff200]'Not a Weave, a web!'[/color] He grasped at his hand at the other wrist and pushed against the ground with his legs. Then, he stopped. Something was moving the strands above, they let out a slight twang as a sharp appendage emerged out of the darkness above. There was some sort of dark chittering and he quite distinctively heard in strange sharp accent, [color=662d91]"I see you..."[/color]

He opened his eyes. Above him was a white ceiling, artificial light cast over him. [color=fff200]'This isn't the classroom.'[/color] He lifted his head off the table and glanced around. Rowan was there sitting nervously in chair nearby, and another girl he had not met before wearing a rather odd purple and green outfit. He stared at it for a moment trying to make sense of it, the Weave of her aura looked strange. A thick patch of color looked like it had been grafted on roughly. His brow furrowed and he groggily said, [color=fff200]"Whose power is that?"[/color] He blinked and rubbed his eyes, before looking at his left arm. The pain in his shoulder had disappeared. He moved it around in a circle experimentally, but it moved easily as though it had never been hurt at all. He switched his attention to his right palm, there were two circular scars in his palm still fresh and new. However, that seemed to be all that remained of his injuries.

His mind began to kick into gear again, putting his stray thoughts together to form a cohesive idea. The looked at Rowan and bowed his head. [color=fff200]"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I take it you brought me here? Thank you."[/color]