Haunted Wood whistlin' past the graveyard

Her head felt thick, as if stuffed with cotton. It was becoming difficult to focus on much else but the stars, but the approach of another did not go unnoticed completely - no, rather, her actions were simply a bit delayed. She lifted her head off the snow, but was not interested in doing much else besides the simple act. Recognition glinted dully in her gaze, the name sparking a bit of happiness in her, along with the oddly happy thought that the boy before her was standing. Standing was good, yes, because-

Brow furrowing, unable to quite think of an answer, she spoke after a moment. "your leg." The words felt heavy, as everything did, somehow, but worry wasn't an emotion that surface immediately. Regret swam into the muddled mess that was her mind, pain still stabbing at her head. "i'm sorry." She slurred, softly, sadly. Cassiopeia didn't recall why she felt so ashamed, and remembering seemed a chore, but the word seemed important somehow.