...and waking in a cave

The first sense to return to Misty was her sense of hearing, and with it she heard a deep, insidious ripping noise echoing around her. The rain had stopped, or at least was silenced as she didn't hear it anymore, and the air was warmer and drier. As consciousness filled her, Misty opened her eyes without moving another muscle. It was still dark, but a different dark. Instead of dark clouds and obstructive trees above her, she saw grey stone highlighted with a subtle, flickering orange glow. Listening closer, past the intermittent tearing sounds, she could hear the crackles and pops of a fire, and it became evident that it had brought her to a cave. She still hesitated to move, her awakening mind trying to playback every memory she had before passing out.

For some reason, she was alive, and the beast decided to take her here, most likely its abode. There was a stiffness in her back from sleeping on the hard ground and a pain in her neck from being flailed around in its grasp. As her hands slowly crept out to feel her surroundings, she felt loose objects scattered around and underneath her, and after several seconds of groping without so much as turning her head, she realized they were bones. Fear returned to her with her lucidity and she began to focus in on the ripping noises she kept hearing. They were coming from her right, and they were close by.

Misty started to psyche herself up, building the courage to make her consciousness known by turning her head. If this beast was facing her, it would likely see her movement and act on it, so she was taking a gamble, one that likely risked her life. Ever so slowly, she started to turn her head to the right, and as she did, her eyes darted across the smooth ceiling and the sparse stalactites dripping down like fangs. Finally, she caught his silhouette in her peripheral. It had its back turned to her, which was a relief, and the fire that was illuminating the cave was on the other side of it, obscuring it in shadow from her point of view. Still, she could make out some details, and for the first time she could look at it without the heavy, unimaginable weight of its glare weighing on her nerves. Long, messy, oily dirty blonde hair flowed down its back, brushing the bottom of its large shoulder blades. Scars speckles its body, and just from a glance she could tell there were at least a dozen on this side of his torso alone. It still wore its fur skin skirt-cloth, and as she watched she could see its arms fidgeting and moving. The movements were synced in tandem with the ripping, each terrible, drawn out noise matched by a slow, effortless pulling motion. It was tearing something apart, and Misty wasn't going to wait for her turn.

Assured she could move safely, she looked to her left and saw the glow of the moon outside. That was where the exit was, now she just needed to get there without being heard. Gently, she planted her hands and feet on the ground in between the bones and lifted herself up, cautious not to slip and fall, no doubt alerting the beast. With a hoist, she threw herself upwards and got her feet under herself. Glancing back to it, the beast was still preoccupied with tearing apart its prey, and so Misty began to tip toe out of the cave.