Dark eyes, slightly slanted, edged with porcelain. White rims tracing the curve, edged with gold. The face looked down at her. Only the face didn't look--it didn't move--just the eyes.
"She's awake," the voice spoke--quiet, sibilant. The china face muffled the sound.
A white oval surrounded by blackness was all she saw. Black eyes echoed the blackness behind.
"Do you think she's aware?" The other voice--male--came from behind her.
"Possibly. Too soon to tell.... Kara, Kara Donaldson. Can you hear me?"
Kara nodded her head. She tested her mouth with her tongue. It was dry, parched. She wanted a drink--a glass of water. She tried to moisten her mouth and throat by swallowing. Nothing would come. She tried to talk, to ask, but all she could manage was a feeble croak.
"No, don't try to talk. You aren't ready yet. Just rest," said the male voice behind her.
Questions were starting to form in the spaces of her half awareness. Where was she? What was happening to her? She felt a pressure against the top of her arm, then something sharp. More blackness, different this time, swept down upon her.
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