Sabre was cold, even as he slept. So cold. Damp, dark and cold had to be the worst combo out there, and it bled into his sleep. The darkness weighed down on Sabre like a weighted blanket much too heavy. His body felt frozen, despite feeling far away from the world. Everything felt distant, yet the cold and the wet still stayed with him. How was that fair?
There was an ounce of warmth present, too. The kind of uncomfortable warmth, like when you slipped into a bath much too warm. It sank in, gripping at him much harder than the cold did. For a few seconds, maybe it was relieving to have something other than the cold, but that soon passed by as the heat became unbearable.
His skin felt like ice, but his head burned hot. The dark smothered him without letting go. Everything was mix matched and strange, cold and hot. If this was what death felt like, well, Sabre definitely wasn't content with that. It couldn't have been a peaceful passing? It had to be uncomfortable and unbearable? That felt sort of mean. Imagine suffering in life, just to get treated to this gross death!! It pissed him off.
But despite everything, he didn't feel dead. Sure, the heat stung and the cold burned, but Sabre noted the fact that he felt anything at all. Unless death really was just an endless, bothersome suffering, shouldn't he had been feeling nothing? Weren't his nerves supposed to be dead just as his body and brain?
Still, was he crazy, or did the darkness seem to lift? Did the inky blackness stretching around him seem to let up and shift to a softer gray? Sabre definitely could be insane. Or maybe this was death, finally taking him. Took it long enough. Yes, Sabre decided he was finally dying, fading away for good now. Maybe whatever afterlife awaited him would be actually comfortable.
He opened his eyes, fully convinced he'd be met with nothing, or something that at least looked like an 'after death'. Instead, he was lying upon something soft and fluffy. And rainbow colored. Sabre's mind tried to search for a reason or an explanation, maybe a memory that ended him up here, but his head felt like it was full of the same wool against his skin.
Sabre sat up groggily, wincing at the few bruises he must have received when he fell into the cave. He glanced around the room, as confused as one could be. He was sat in a rainbow colored bed with two fluffy white pillows—one that Sabre realized he had been clutching in his sleep. He wasted no time immediately throwing it into its place on the bed.
The room seemed cutesy and neatly decorated. At both sides of the bed, two flower pots held small yellow flowers. Sabre vaguely remembered a time where he knew all flowers by name, but at this point, they all looked the same. There were suits of leather armor in the corners of the room, dyed rainbow colors and looking untouched. Sabre already had a feeling of who lived here, so he doubted the owner had ever needed to use the armor.
Sabre had seen enough. He already knew who lived here, so he didn't have to spend his time inspecting every nook and cranny of the place. He attempted to get to his feet, but was met with a sharp pain in his head. He fell backwards into the bed with a groan. Sabre didn't remember hitting his head, but then again, he had taken a bit of a fall.
He heard the wood creak, and Sabre sat up defensively, looking around quickly. His eyes focused on the staircase leading down. There was no doubt of who owned the house, but it still could have been anyone. Maybe Dark Steve had broken in, or maybe someone way worse was here.
A small head poked up from the lower floor, messy rainbow hair bouncing around. Blue eyes settled on his blindfold and watched him wearily.
"Hello." Sabre greeted and frowned a little. He was a bit surprised at how hoarse his voice was. How long had he been out?
"Hi.." a small voice whispered. Sabre was surprised to hear a voice at all. The odds of him imagining it had to have been higher than the odds of that actually being Rainbow, right?
