Days blended together for Isla as she could not tell the time, chained in the cold dungeon. Her stomach growled in pain and her throat was patched from not drinking enough water for days. She could no longer produce enough saliva to wet her chapped lips. The skin on her wrist was marred in dried blood from the harsh bite of the rusty chains,her arms in an uncomfortable angle.
She had given up on trying to call out for help as she realized that no one was going to yield to her cry for help. *I can't stay here forever. I don't want to die in here* she thought to herself. She had no one other than Mira who'd be affected if she were to die here. Her eyes were swollen from the lack of sleep and constant crying.