Autumn woke slow and queasy, a situation not at all helped by the full rumble in her head or the general rocking of the bed. She tried to moan at Boudreaux to settle down already, that it wasn't time to play, especially not with this hangover she'd been utterly unprepared for, but all she managed was a faint wheeze of sound. Her limbs felt heavy and stiff, like she'd fallen asleep in some awkward position. What the hell had happened?
There'd been that awful reading at the senior center and all the invasive questions about her love life. That had merited all the wine. But...no, she'd eaten. She'd had fluids. That was...yesterday?
Something splashed on her face and began to cool in the breeze.
Breeze?