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The first thing that Korra notices is that everything is wrapped tightly around her. Her skin feels molten, stretched too far, and her entire body seems to ache to the bone. Air rushes through her throat and runs it dry, yet her lungs continue to burn, unable to capture quite enough oxygen. When she raises a hand to try and rub sleep from her eyes, her wrists come against restraints, the rough fabric rubbing at her skin and drawing panic to her throat.
"Easy there," a voice says, and Korra's gaze falls on a man with hair like filtered sunlight, a pad of parchment held tight in his hands. "You've been mostly asleep for the past couple of days, and during that time, you've been running a pretty constant fever. Your body's undoubtedly exhausted, and you're probably feeling a bit weak. Do you know where you are?"
Korra glances around, searching for something familiar. Buried somewhere in her memories are thoughts of glass panes and of needles piercing her skin, but the room she finds herself in now is painted in pastel colors, the light soft and warm. Voice not yet returned, Korra shakes her head, letting the tension leave her hands.
The man smiles, nodding lightly. "You're in the hospital, and you're going to be fine. I'd say more, but... there's a friend of yours who might just implode in the waiting room if I don't let him in. He says his name is Bolin. Do you feel up for a visit right now?"
Her eyes widen, and Korra wrinkles her nose, trying to sit up as well as she can.
"I'll take that as a yes," he says, nodding and hooking his pad on the foot of her bed before heading towards the exit. Even after he slips out the door, Korra stares in its direction, her thoughts slowed, as though padded with cotton.
"Easy there," a voice says, and Korra's gaze falls on a man with hair like filtered sunlight, a pad of parchment held tight in his hands. "You've been mostly asleep for the past couple of days, and during that time, you've been running a pretty constant fever. Your body's undoubtedly exhausted, and you're probably feeling a bit weak. Do you know where you are?"
Korra glances around, searching for something familiar. Buried somewhere in her memories are thoughts of glass panes and of needles piercing her skin, but the room she finds herself in now is painted in pastel colors, the light soft and warm. Voice not yet returned, Korra shakes her head, letting the tension leave her hands.
The man smiles, nodding lightly. "You're in the hospital, and you're going to be fine. I'd say more, but... there's a friend of yours who might just implode in the waiting room if I don't let him in. He says his name is Bolin. Do you feel up for a visit right now?"
Her eyes widen, and Korra wrinkles her nose, trying to sit up as well as she can.
"I'll take that as a yes," he says, nodding and hooking his pad on the foot of her bed before heading towards the exit. Even after he slips out the door, Korra stares in its direction, her thoughts slowed, as though padded with cotton.