So loud it would have hurt her ears – if they'd been her own. Then the sound cut off. And her shoulder started to throb. She swayed in place, struggling to stay upright, then stumbled and collapsed on her side. What was that? Had she been shot? There wasn't much pain. But she didn't feel well. Or right. Something was off. A half laugh choked free. She was captive in another's body. What was normal about that? No, her host felt off. Drugged. And given the sluggish sensation that felt like it was rippling through her veins – the host was unconscious. It would help so much if she could see. Why the hell couldn't she? Then as if just by asking the question, clarification came. She had to accept the body of whatever person she was in and see through their eyes. So far she'd been fighting her host. Fighting against understanding it.
