[center][h2]Krunk-Mobile, Prisoner Bay[/h2]
[sub]Oh, hey[/sub][/center]

With a groan and a roll of the shoulders, Zerraf leaned forward from the ground: an action which took several seconds and serious effort. He blinked twice, slowly, looking from one direction to the next. The red mage yawned with a carelessness that challenged his cold, iron environment. The last thing he remembered was a sunny hillside free of dew; he'd decided to rest his head for a nap. And now he was in a prison cell. [color=ed1c24]"Mmm, not again..."[/color] Zerraf tilted his wide-brim cap with a flick of his wrist, and with the same hand patted either side of his hips. No luck. What a bother. Exerting force upon the floor, Zerraf pushed himself to his feet in a groggy fashion and swayed his way toward the cell door. He'd knock his knuckles against the bars until one of the ball-like guards passed by. [color=ed1c24]"Yo-oy yo. Rolling ball man. I need my weapons, and a pillow would be nice."[/color] Zerraf would say with a dopey half-smile and eyes nearly shut. The request was so airy it almost didn't sound like he was asking anything, more like he was whispering a comment beneath his breath.