[center] [img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/1306c0b1677d4a671958d8c2a3411747/tumblr_n6ghldD3zO1sq6y5do3_250.gif[/img][h1][color=olive]Tawny[/color][/h1]
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Tawny awoke, not for the first time, to the sound of voices talking about her. She had no idea what time it was, but judging from the light filtering in through the window in her room, it was daytime. Her healing bones protested as she pulled herself up into a sitting position on her bed, but she did not make a sound. Her doe-like eyes remained glued to the nurses by her bed, and she resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at their indifference. They could at least try to lower their voices - not being able to speak didn't make her deaf. 

"It'll be good for her - y'know, to talk to people that have been through the same thing as her." One of the nurses, a pretty Asian girl, finally seemed to notice that the subject of their conversation was sat up and staring straight at them, and lowered her voice so that Tawny could only make out the words 'trauma' and 'too long'.

She couldn't argue with that. She had been here too long - almost a week now. Her seven broken bones were slowly on the mend, and the bruising was beginning to fade. The only real reason as to why she was still in this stupid hospital was because she couldn't talk. So she cooperated, following the nurses along a series of identical corridors until they reached the doors of what they called a 'community room'. 

Tawny, feeling slightly dizzy from the amount of painkillers she had been given, glanced at herself briefly in the reflection of a nearby window and sighed. She was a mess, to say the least. Her hair was pulled up away from her face in a severe ponytail, leaving nothing to cover the impressive scape across her cheekbone. Not to mention her sling, heavily bandaged foot and crutches. She looked like a sad version of Mr Bump. 

Throwing one last helpless look at the Asian nurse, she was pushed into the room with a sarcastic 'good luck'. Obviously they didn't have much hope for her, she realised, as she looked down at the label on her clothes with her name hastily scribbled onto it. The room she had been thrust into was large and airy and open, and in it seemed to be the world's most depressing group of people. There was a girl with bruises around her neck, a guy with bandages wrapped around most of his body, another tired-looking girl sitting next to the taken beds, a pretty girl asking where the bathroom was,  a guy that was seemingly shaken up. 

Her gaze stayed fixed on that guy as her vision flashed, causing her to stumble slightly. Something told her that he had just woken up. He couldn't breathe. Asphyxiation. [i]That doesn't make any sense, though, does it? How could she know that?[/i]

The old Tawny would have greeted everyone with a warm smile and a friendly introduction - maybe flirting with one of the guys. This Tawny, however, offered nothing more than a small frown while tapping her fingers against her crutch nervously, trying to make her way as quietly as possible to the nearest open window. The group seemed to be greeting each other, sharing experiences. But, of course, she couldn't do that. So instead she sat herself on a window ledge and propped her crutch up against the wall next to her, wide brown eyes watching without a sound.