Groaning in pain, Finn shifted in the darkness, unable to see anything or figure out where he was. All he knew was that they had landed somewhere hard—and somehow, he was still alive.
Moving his arm around, he brushed against something cold and wet. The sudden touch made him jolt, but after feeling it again, he realized it was just mud.
'Great…' he sighed internally.
More dirt and grime. Wherever they'd landed, it meant filth—and Finn wasn't happy about it.
But one thing worried him more than the mud: Chestelle. He wasn't even sure if the poor girl was alright. Tapping against the inside of her wall, he heard a soft, tired rattle in response.
'Okay, good.'
From the feel of things, after running his hands around, Finn realized Chestelle's lid had slammed open on impact and sunk slightly into the mud. Luckily, he seemed fine—but it made him wonder if Chestelle had taken the worst of it.
