Ravensblood Forest before the devil knows you’re dead

This post is lame. ;-; I am sorry.

Truth be told, the soot-stockinged rogue feared that if she succumbed now to Dakarai’s ministrations, she would find herself unable to rise again. Doubtfully she looked at the ground that she had only just clawed herself up from, and her shock-glossed silver eyes drifted back toward the fire that continued to lick ravenously at the horizon. For a moment, she seemed at war with herself, standing very still and avoiding eye contact — and then she straightened abruptly, stiffening her resolve like the soturi she was. “Do what you must,” she intoned with as much dignity as she could muster, gingerly stretching out beside the pile of snow Dakarai had pushed toward her and beginning to layer it over her wounds. The pain — or what she thought was pain — was mostly veiled by adrenaline, but she knew once it faded, she would be in a world of hurt. Her paws concerned her most — the pads seemed to be peeled completely off in places, leaving angry red flesh behind. One thing was for sure: she wouldn’t be climbing mountains anytime soon.