The Florence Nightengale Effect

[onehandsomeslickninja]

That last battle... well, it hadn't gone well.

He'd gotten way too used to white magic, was his second waking thought (the first, of course, being pain). Before he even opened his eyes, he took stock of himself, and determined that everything hurt. Well, maybe not everything. His leg hurt more than most, but his face and arms felt a little better than they probably ought to given how he'd been scratched and scraped...

And hey, this ground was comfortable. Unusually comfortable, almost like a bed.

With a groan, Edge cracked one eye open.