[clary]

Vyra isn’t sure how long he’d slept slept for, but when he finally wakes up sometime later, he’s still stuck in the same position he’d been in before completely passing out — locked up to a bed with no way out. The shifter pushes himself up into a sitting position on the mattress. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, pressing fingers against them and brushing stray strands of curly hair out of where they dangled before his face. A stifled yawn looses and he glances this way and that. A frown makes itself present on his tired and worn features as he notices he’s alone. Again.

There’s a rough scratchy feeling in the back of his throat, and when Vyra coughs he winces at the irritation it causes. Fingers curl into the sheets on the bed and, facing the door, Vyra calls out. “Hey!” His lips are dry and voice is hoarse. His black eye appears to have gotten worse since earlier as have the handful of bruises speckling his body from past struggle. “Mind offering up some water..? Anything?”