New Year's Day [for Aragorn]

Waking up in unfamiliar surroundings was never a good thing, even if life on Tabula Rasa sometimes necessitated getting used to it. Prior to even opening her eyes beyond her initial observation, Wanda went through a quick mental inventory:

Headache? Present, but manageable.
Memories of the previous night? Hazy.
Clothing? A man's shirt, which she never slept in even when she was one.
Overall prognosis? Troublesome.

Extremely troublesome.

Wanda wasn't about to over think any further. Once she'd ascertained that this was probably a circumstance brought about by man-made as opposed to island-made bad decisions (unless magically-appearing alcohol counted, which she suspected would be something of a stretch), there was really just the one course of action that came to mind: getting the hell out of there as fast as was humanly possible.

Rolling over to the edge of the bed, Wanda suppressed a quiet groan and reluctantly looked around. Her dress had to be here somewhere.