Coconut Grove Your anger is frightening the sand

deirdre looked to him, his response telling one of two things (or perhaps even all of the above)--he didn't feel good, or his brain had been damaged in the injury he had sustained by whatever had hurt him. had it been the tree he slumped beneath, or the split-open coconut? perhaps he was also dehydrated. the young cub, though skilled, was not yet the best medicine woman to call upon in these matters. she had been summoned in her dreams to aid him, and so she would in the ways she could, limited that they were given the lack of plant life.

i will get you water. you must drink. i am not sure if you can move, but if you can, stay here. i will be back. and so with that, deirdre grabbed for the half she had not brought to the saltwater. the aromatic scent was sweet still, but this portion had dried. the young girl sought a fresh watersource, which did not take her too long, and returned before long to where she had left peregrine, drinking water in tow. she'd have to go back and forth a couple of times, she figured, to hydrate him properly after the potential hours he had spent in the sun. not being sure of that, she simply wanted to play it safe.