Inric wakes up slowly, feeling groggy and tired, as though he hasn't actually been asleep for... for how long? Something is not right. He reaches across to his injured shoulder, and finds a dressing there, held on by inexpert but thorough bandaging. The cup he vaguely remembers knocking over is now on the floor, filled with something that isn't water. It's standing on a scrap of paper with a smily face drawn on it. The face has curly hair and horns. Frowning, he picks it up. "Mina did this?"