Enya pov
Waking up to the scent of a hospital is starting to get on my nerves. Too often, I scrunch my nose at the heavy stench of medicines and cleaning supplies. Opening my eyes, I take in my surroundings. I have a couple of heavy-looking machines and cables attached to my arms. I'm alone, and there's no sign of any medical personnel nearby. I can use this opportunity to get the hell out of this damn place. I'm tired of hanging around wolves- all they try to do is kill me in a way that takes suspicion off them. A true warrior would kill me in the arena or on the battlefield, but these creatures have no honour. First the basil, and then I start coughing up blood? Something tells me they have given me something; it must be them. Father was right. I shouldn't give in and pretend to feel something- no feelings means no attachment.