The next morning, Azura woke up feeling like her brain had been replaced with a bag of angry hamsters.
She clutched her head, groaning. Yesterday, she'd woken up with a hangover headache. Today, she'd woken up with a "I face-planted into the floor like a defeated cartoon character" headache. At this rate, by tomorrow she'd wake up with a headache from being hit by a falling piano.
She blinked groggily at the ceiling.
White ceiling. Not her ceiling. Not her room. Not her house.
She sat up so fast her vision swam, and she looked around wildly at the unfamiliar furniture, the frilly curtains, the scent of... pancakes?
Before she could even begin to panic-properly, the door slammed open with the force of a battering ram operated by a very enthusiastic ghost.
"AZURA, ARE YOU AWAKE YET?!"
Azura jolted so hard she nearly levitated off the bed. Her heart rate skyrocketed from "sleepy potato" to "startled cat who just saw a cucumber" in 0.2 seconds.
