Lost Change

Chapter 25

I woke up in the same almost-tingly state as the night before. The pain was a bit more noticeable, but still a distant thing that I had to concentrate on to really notice. I was glad for that, since what I had seen of my wings and leg made me think I should probably be in a lot of pain.

The cloth over the cage had been removed at some point while I was asleep. I took a look around the room, frowning as I did.

Wherever this was, it was obviously not a veterinarian clinic. Or if it was, I had been put in the lobby instead of a recovery room. My cage was sitting on a small end table of some kind and had been placed next to a window on one wall, close enough that I could cover the distance in a short hop, though the window was covered by a shade at the moment. I hoped the window faced towards the east and that the horizon beyond wouldn't be blocked by other buildings - it would be nice to get to see the sun rise. The shade looked bright enough to suggest the sun was up outside, but the light from inside the room was artificial and seemed to be coming from fixtures in the ceiling and in the corners.

There was a large couch in the center of the room, though the couch lacked any armrests. A coffee table rested in front of the couch, and a larger piece of furniture served as a stand for a thin television-like screen. A flower pot rested in the corner opposite the window, though the plant - the encyclopedia in my head informed me it was a plant from some alien planet and would produce a pleasant smell when it was in bloom - seemed to be drooping a little, and the soil in the pot looked dry. An end table with a lamp was in the corner opposite of me, similar to the one my cage was resting on. There were a few loose boxes resting on the end table beside my cage, but I couldn't make out what was inside them.

Three doors led into the room. Two were opened and seemed to lead into hallways, though I couldn't get a good enough angle to see what they might lead to. The encyclopedia in my head seemed to suggest I could find either the dining room and the kitchen or the bedrooms and bathrooms beyond them, though I wasn't sure which door led to which. The closed door was on the same wall as the window, so I assumed it led outside.

The brief thought of a bathroom made me realize I hadn't used one in a while. I glanced around the room again and confirmed it was empty, then wobbled over to the tray of red dirt to take care of that problem.

I limped over to the food dish after I finished burying the evidence in the tray of dirt, and sniffed at the pair of bowls. The dried mangos had been swapped out at some point while I was sleeping, but the replacement fruit was similarly dried, and there were still bits of fish sprinkled in among the dried fruit. I gave an unhappy snort at that. It was a clever trick - if I had been left fresh fruit to eat, I might not be thirsty enough to drink the water. But this food would leave my mouth dry, which would push me to drink more of the painkillers. Even the chunks of fish seemed a little drier than I expected, though I still had no interest in eating them.

I sat beside the bowl and slowly nibbled on the fruit slices, eating at a slow pace to try and keep the dryness of the fruit from overwhelming my thirsty mouth. It helped a little, though I was still thirsty after I finished eating.

The tingly feeling was still taking the edge off most of the pain, though, and the thirst wasn't so bad that I was willing to knock myself out to take care of it. I did my best to ignore it for the moment.

I glanced back over my body and noticed that the bandages on my wings looked different - they must have been replaced while I was sleeping, when the food had been changed - but otherwise I was in the same sorry state. The light was bright enough now to tell that the gleaming smears on my wing were not blood, but instead some sort of clear gunk that had been slathered over my scales.