"Ooh," Kelyn moans, consciousness making an uncertain return. "My head..." She squirms around to squint down beneath her. "What am I lying on that's so lumpy?" There is precious little light, but there is some, and like all her people she can see in near-pitch darkness. Slowly the form below her comes into focus - a familiar focus. Kelyn starts in shock. "Jory?" Her friend appears unconscious, although he is scowling as if in discomfort. What's more, he has been stripped to his shirt and breeches, and Kelyn's eye is caught by the skin revealed where his shirt has rucked up underneath her. Lines and swirls dance over it in a very familiar pattern.