[Joey wakes up on the softest bed of sand she's ever laid in. She yawns, whiskers tweaking, and rolls onto her back. Through the muggy haze of contented sleep, she notices how oddly... unbroken the bed is. Not even the smallest of shells digging into her backside. The blacks of her eyes open to slits, and then fly wide
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Comments 23
...hello?
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Holy crap WHERE IS IT COMING FROM.
Joey wiggles herself to where she's not crushing the communicator, head tossing frantically as she tries to figure out where the voice had originated. Say again, Marco?]
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Look for the comm. Its like a cellphone...or a magic rock.
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Joey grunts again, still panicked, but morbidly curious about who or what is talking to her.]
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