Astor woke slowly, shaking his head and blinking. He was alone now, tied atop some table. He at first tried shifting into his lamia form, but felt a jolt of pain as the inhibitors blocked him. He summoned up all his strength and pushed against the table with his four strong legs. The ropes snapped and the foxtaur stretched his arms while shaking the tension out of his legs. He looked around the dimly lit room, looking to find a way out. He growled as he spotted the camera, making an obscene gesture and spitting at it.