Waking after a long coma is a difficult task. For some, maybe seconds have passed in their mind, while years, or decades, have passed outside. They may remember flashes - fragments of what happened around them. Maybe.
And after waking, they may feel...disconnected from themselves. Need to relearn how to exist. How to live. But...it is easier to learn if they have never lived before.
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Unlike the snap-waking from a nightmare, this things rise is...slow. Oddly warm, despite how used to the cold it is. A makeshift hospital room, transported into a large bedroom. A hospital bed, nearby table, and a large assortment of medical devices all hooked up to the thing on the bed.
It blinks. Once. Twice.
It's body is...different, now. Before, it was frail. Emaciated. Bones so brittle it couldn't leave its Iron Womb, lights burned nearly blind from decades of seeing only red, permanently encased to keep its body burning for just one more fight.
This body...wasn't that. It was...healthy. Fat on it's frame. Thicker hair that isn't thinned, skin no longer stark white...alive. It can't move much, still heavily sedated, unaccustomed to a body that functions properly.
Before the panic can set it...it smells it. A familiar burning smell. Heady and deep, mixed with something...savory. Tobacco and Rosemary.
Her.
She's seated on the other side of the small room, cast nearly entirely in shadow, save for the ember of Her cigarette, and the occasional lick as the fireplace at the far end of the room cuts through the gloom.
She dosen't speak. Simply watches. Waits. Assesses how it moves. And when it instinctively strains, even in this unfamiliar body, for Her...She stands, boots clicking, echoing agaisnt the wood floor in the quite room.
She stops when She stands overtop it, looking down, stone-faced. She reaches up to pluck Her cigarette from Her lips...allowing a slightest smirk to split Her lips.
"...took you long enough. Welcome back, dog"
It takes moment to think. It was...gone. Likely dead, given Her line of work. But it was alive now. Different. It dosen't speak, but She understands. She takes a drag of her cigarette before responding, the smoke flowing out like water.
"A new body. Bio-engineered. Would have been priceless if I didn't get it for free thanks to Rubicon."
Flashes. Others like her, the clashing of metal. Betrayal and reunion.
She catches the flicker on its face. She always does.
"The others are alive. Free, mostly."
For just a moment, anger flashes across Her face. A...possessive flare, perhaps. The same one that cropped up in the past, when one of the other dogs would touch it. The flash is smothered quickly.
"Officially, you're dead. KIA during the Fall of Rubicon...luckily that pilot didn't gore your body too much. Was able to gut your consciousness, give it new home."
The more technical side that She rambles about mostly goes over its head. It's too busy watching Her. How She moves, how She talks. Her hair is slightly more grey now, face slightly rougher.
Eventually, She catches herself, stifling a laugh with another drag.
"Not that it matters to you. You shouldn't be awake for another week, not done simulating familiarity with the new body to skip rehab...not that I mind, just gonna knock you out again for it."
She is already at the machine, typing something. The IV to its side gurgles softly, and need drugs are pushed. Immediately, its body becomes warm and heavy again.
But before it drops...it hears Her one last time.
"Cara Valerie Ashling is dead. You will forget that name."
As soon as She says it, its like the name is burned from it's memory. A void.
"...welcome back to My care, Eris Iscara."
It drops finally. Asleep. Relaxed. And over top it's sleeping body...She leans down, nose nestling softly in its hair
"...Mine."
Her growl is almost as feral as one of the Hounds She once controlled.
