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The male hissed, his eyes closed as he snuggled into his bed sheets and pillow. His hands were clasped around the softness of the feathered pillow, trying to relax, trying to get some sort of sleep.... But sleep eluded him. Exhaustion was plastered on pale features, his cheeks looked even more sunken than ever. If anything, Orochimaru looked dead. Eyes fluttered opened slightly, adjusting to the darkness, shifting as he changed positions, trying to get comfortable. Stress oozed from his beaten and battered aged body. What had he done to deserve this? Nothing. Ever since the war was over, he had done nothing but be a 'good' little snake. "Whose...there?" The elder muttered, sensing someone in the room with him. It was faint, and for a moment, Orochimaru thought he was hearing things. And the massive headache throbbed in his frontal lobe, cause disorientation, unclear thoughts and it went so far as to disrupt his chakra flow.