When Drake finally awoke, it was certainly no walk in the park. His heartbeat started back up, and then his lungs sputtered to life along with a violent coughing fit. His silver eyes shot open as his body painfully kickstarted itself once more. This was nothing the boy wasn’t used to, and was honestly a relief compared to the pain of death itself. His power of self revival was still a mystery, but he was starting to piece together what he could only best describe as a nightmare that happened every time he died. 

A vivid dream of darkness and excruciating pain - the feeling that every fiber of his being was tearing through the pores of his skin only to get crammed right back inside, over and over again. Each taste bud plucked from his tongue only to be seared right back on. This time the memory had been much longer than his prior experiences, which led Drake to believe it may have actually been the revival that caused this pain, not death itself.

Regardless, he was glad it was finally over. Now all he was left with was a lack of energy and a searing headache. 

This much he could handle.

Slowly he took in his surroundings. He was in a bed in a room that looked untouched for at least a decade. Dust laced the ledges and shelves which were decrepit from age(something he had grown used to seeing out in the ashlands), but nothing about the room seemed familiar. The boy folded his large wings against his back and went to stand, clutching his head and gripping the bedpost when the room gave a small spin. With a bit of willpower, however, the feeling was gone almost as quickly as it had arrived and Drake was able to walk forward to the door. Placing a gloved hand on the door handle, he paused in hesitation.

The hardest part about waking up was not knowing the condition of his group. Or if his group was still [i]alive[/i], at that. Last he remembered, there had been a huge battle. He couldn’t recall how he had died or who had the honor of killing him, but from what he did remember of the fight, it hadn’t been pretty. His stomach sank at the possibilities of what lay beyond this door, but he swallowed hard and pushed forward.

The hallway was rather empty by means of people and decor, and many were still asleep from what he could tell as he peaked in each room. The old floorboards creaked with every step, making it all the more ominous. Eventually he came to the office where Dawn was, relieved to see she was awake and - furthermore - alive. Stepping inside the room, he spoke softly so as not to startle her.

[color=#A2A2A2]“Dawn...?”[/color]

Silver gaze trailed over the maps she was observing curiously. It seemed the geography here was just as unfamiliar to the others as it was to him, which meant their arrival must have been recent. His eyes swept about the room, taking in the wooden floorboards and old-fashioned wallpaper that peeled away to reveal its rotting wood.

[color=#A2A2A2]“How long was I out?”[/color] he asked, focusing back on her.