[h1][center]Gwendolyn[/center][/h1]

The fog rested heavily over the teen girl's mind as her pale grey eyes first opened. She fluttered between waking and sleep but the voice was insistent, and so she sleepily rose her slender arms to the strange controls. As her hands instinctively flew over the machinery, she struggled to remember something, anything, about why she was here. She remembered her name was Gwendolyn, that was firmly in place. She vaguely thought that she was sixteen at least and her birthday was in the springtime, but there was nothing definite there. Then there were faint images of two people, maybe her parents, the women shared her hair. Then of a collar, metal and harsh, though that was more a feeling around her neck then an actual image.

The cradle opened and the svelte girl felt around her neck. The collar was gone, but the imprints and scars remained. When had the collar come out? How had it come off? Gwendolyn shook her head of the useless musings. Now was not the time to worry about that, she had to find out where she was, why she was here, and who were the others that she dimly recalled having to meet with to go wherever they were suppose to go. The blonde looked around and saw that there were other cradles, some opened already and others where their occupants were stirring. Then she exited her cradle and shivered in the cold air. She scouted around, making as little noise as possible, to see if the other occupants who left were still around the cradles and if there was anything besides cradles and people in here. She did though keep looking back to see when anyone else awoke so she could consult with someone and see if anyone else remembered more.