Dealing With Blonds

Waking up in furs

When I finally did come to my senses I was resting in a pile of furs. I lifted my head and groaned when it started to pound. So I let my head drop back into the fur below me. I starred at the long strands of soft fur that cradled me. The fur was long and silky, I twisted it in my fingers and marveled at it. The fur was a typical dark brown color and reminded me of the few hares that I had seen before in the gardens. I opened my eyes even more and noticed that everything was shadowy, though the gloom did not bother me as I lived in the mountain system.

Slowly my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. I could see a odd shaped lump on the ground a few feet from my side and after that a wall of black. As I looked at the odd lump it started to come into focus and I soon saw that it was a pile of tack, horses tack. There was a saddle that looked familiar, but who knows the stables of the mountain system had lots of saddles for the large amount of horses. And there was a saddle blanket, it was a bright color, yellow maybe? And I could see that along on edge of the blanket there was a line of thread stitched into the shape of hundreds of tiny suns. I traced the line of tiny suns with my eyes until they got interrupted by a dark blotch. The dark blotch traced its way along one side of the blanket and had a constellation of little dark blotches around it. On top of the saddle and the blanket was a pile of neatly folded clothes that has white thread stitched in to repear the rips.

If my thoughts had not been clouded, I would of noticed that there was another pile of furs and a similar pile of tack on the other side of the tent. (Yes I was in a tent. No I am not a nim-rod for not noticing it earlier. I was just oh I don't know DRUGGED.) 

A/N Yes its small, perhaps the smallest yet. So, um, one last chance, "Who is this person?" either one, the one who drugged her or the one she talks to. It really don't matter.