When her skin had calmed and the nerves no longer protested, the woman simply sat. The wind pried between them briefly and Dawa shuddered with the cold, but it was here that she realized there was no feeling. He had indeed pulled her free, but it was too late. The damage had been done. Had Dawa been able, she would have seen it. The crookedness of her lower back, now set to match the rest of her. Rear legs splayed out without any sense. Halfway down the length of her ruddy coyote tail there was only red, which soaked and spread through the snow behind her. A part was missing, but still she felt no pain from the loss. Dawa remained oblivious of these new wounds - except for the stench of blood that was swiftly picked up and tossed around the pair.
Naturally, the healer felt a need to fix. She fumbled with her body, wanting to move closer to Raheerah and inspect him. Her nose briefly brushed through his thick fur. He was too far away and Dawa could not close the gap. "Blood?" She queried with a sharp-pitched sound behind the meat of her cheeks; "-the avalanche," she sputtered with the realization of it. How many had they lost? Her mouth was dry but Dawa had to ask - "How many?" - even if her questions made little sense in her current state.