Sleeping Dragon been half goddess, half hell

Thuringwethil had been knocked around. She’d been training since she could remember, knocked down in sparring and in battle. She’s sure every part of her body has been bruised at one point or another, but the ringing in her ears isn’t like anything she’s ever felt before. Her head throbs, sourcing out to the cold water on her shoulders, and she feels like her head is visually pulsing with each lunge of pain from her limb.

Lucani moves away from her and she jerks her head, looking up to see her disappear. “Okay,” she mumbles even though the woman disappeared from her side. She shifts her weight to sit sternal once more. “Where’s @Gyda?” she asks, turning her head to look and find Lucani a few steps away then rushing back to her side to work on her shoulder. She cringes, lifting her lip in a silent, snarling cry.