[Sorry, Oryou. At least the feel of hands on his shoulders yanks Dan Heng from his sleep almost immediately, green eyes shooting open as he jerks awake with a harsh gasp, heart pounding.
It's clear for a moment that he's not sure where he is. It's cool and the air carries plenty of ambient humidity, and it takes a second for Dan Heng to focus on the differences: Fingers against his shoulders, the softness of bedding beneath him. Not a cold cell or harsh fists. One hand rises to his face, pressing firmly there. No chains. No nails.
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It's clear for a moment that he's not sure where he is. It's cool and the air carries plenty of ambient humidity, and it takes a second for Dan Heng to focus on the differences: Fingers against his shoulders, the softness of bedding beneath him. Not a cold cell or harsh fists. One hand rises to his face, pressing firmly there. No chains. No nails.
This is... not the shackling prison.]
I...