“He looks like he’s recovering well enough. The fever has gone down and his shoulder seems a lot less irritated. Make sure to keep reapplying that cream to his wound every few hours and changing the bandages. He should be waking up soon… sometime today hopefully. Sam’s still not ready for visitors. He woke up briefly this morning, but once he ate something he was back out again.” The voice was a strange one, not one he recognised and her words made no sense to Luka. It sounded like she was talking to someone. 

His eyes fluttered open to see a woman leaving and it took his hazy mind a few minutes to realise fully what was going on. He was in a strange place; that much was painfully obviously. He was lying in… a bed he thought. Though he wasn’t sure if that was the right word. Looking around he realised he was in a house. His memories from before the wall were hazy to say the least, but he vaguely remembered something like this from his childhood. His eyes eventually fell on the girl from the other night and instantly his body tensed and he went to grab for his blade before letting out a hiss of pain.

This finally brought his attention to his shoulder, which was covered in a soft piece of white stuff that he wasn’t familiar with. But he was aware it was throbbing very painfully and as he pulled back the gauze he revealed the deep arrow wound, which was slightly inflamed and red and memories of being shot slowly came back to him. How he got here though he had no idea and he turned to look at the girl curiously. He hadn't really said anything since waking up and at this point he was considering whether he should just run or not. But his knife was missing. Along with his shirt. And he felt weak, uselessly weak. He wasn’t in much condition to run anywhere.