Lucky’s POV:
I go from a blank state to bolting onto my feet. I take in a deep breath, remembering the barrel. Someone slipped drugs in. Where am I? I spin to find out, but fall on my knees, dizzy. The drugs haven’t entirely left my system. Quickly, I scramble up again and smack my head into a rock wall. I groan as I continue to support myself. I find a defensive stance by putting my mind to it. The wall helps me stabilize and get my bearings.
After a moment, my head clears enough for me to look around. My ears still ring, so it’s hard to focus, but I find out enough to not panic. I’m in a large room filled with several mattresses, but that’s it. No other furniture. It must be slave quarters. That is a relief, at least. I feared a holding cell would be in my future, but I can deal with a
