Whitefish River i only wake up from a nightmare after i die

Afternoon, several miles east of the river.

Diane was adjusting, slowly but surely to life well above sea level. The difference in air pressure would occasionally cause headaches after too much activity, but they were lessening as the days turned into a full week. Porcupine Ridge did not feel like home, but it definitely felt safe. In fact, she had gone several days now without any incident; too busy, perhaps, to dwell on her trauma. 

She curled up into the snug hole she had excavated that was her den, and in feeling comfortable, drifted off slowly with nothing on her mind...

The waterwall crashed down over her, spinning her wild, making her feel like she was being torn apart. The wolf was snatched into wakefulness, her heart pounding and her mouth wide as she gasped for breath she wasn't missing. The instinct for flight took her, and she scrambled out of the cramped dig, streaking down the slopes like her tail was on fire. 

She ran well into the cold, cloudy morning and early afternoon, slowing only when the scent of water began to distract her. It wasn't salty-smelling like the ocean, but she still wasn't keen on approaching a body of water. She had taken to icicle-licking in order to supplement proper drinking. 

Diane panted, her body over warm from the strain. She looked over her shoulder, where the tall juts of the Ridge were still visible and she wondered why she had run so far.