The first thing Ravina noticed was the cold. Not the kind that came with wind or night, but the kind that seeped under your skin—unnatural and biting.
She didn't know what happened though her memories were quickly returning.
She stirred awake slowly, her tiny body tucked against something soft but dusty. As her vision cleared, her eyes fluttered open to a world shrouded in thick, dark mist. She sat up, groggy and confused, the hazy air around her heavy with the scent of mildew and strange herbs.
Around her were a few crooked huts—makeshift homes with tattered cloths flapping like wounded flags, their walls built from dark wood and bones.
Cloaked figures moved between them, silent as shadows, their faces obscured by deep hoods. None of it felt real. None of it felt safe.
She could feel it in her bones that she was far, far away from her home...from everyone.
Her small fingers curled against her chest as she whispered, "Mimi...?"
