Quinton Jasevelle
The wolf was still groggy and confused when he awoke, slowly lifting his head to peer around at his surroundings. His eyes were squinted, vision slightly blurry, which made it difficult to make anything out. Judging from the surface he was laying on, he definitely was no longer in the woods. He shook his head, which only rewarded him with a pounding headache. His ankle still hurt, but it wasn't the same throbbing pain as before. It took him a few minutes to fully comprehend what had happened. He slowly stood, ears pinned down as a whine escaped his muzzle. He couldn't be here, he shouldn't. It was a miracle that his body hadn't shifted back while he was passed out, but he couldn't keep this up. He needed to get out of here. He paced the small room, careful not to put pressure on his injured foot. Of course, he could open the door if he shifted, but that was a huge risk, someone could see him.










