Qeya River I met this dude at Coachella

The edges of her vision darkened as Wildfire struggled to catch her breath. She hadn't let herself think about it until now, how she was staring down the barrel of a gun. Now that she was all of a sudden facing her own mortality, the yearling struggled to cope. It wasn't just that she might never get a chance to figure out if she was dead wrong about Thuringwethil reciprocating her interest—although that was terrifying, despite her earlier deniability—but that she might actually die before getting to experience everything she wanted in life. Not just another chance at love (in whatever form it took)... but literally anything and everything else.

She began to sink to the ground, her breaths coming in little sips and gasps, and she hardly noticed the emaciated figure skulking toward her with a trout tucked in its mouth. When the voice spoke, she registered it dimly and raised her blurry amber eyes, blinking at the gaunt stranger. She was hungry; she was famished. But she was too far gone to speak at the moment and she couldn't even begin to tell whether he was offering or taunting or something else altogether. Wildfire could only stare at him, eyes suddenly going glassy as her vision dimmed totally to black.