Stavanger Bay Off the cliff she tumbled

The bark was to be chewed, and Artemis complied, exhausted. She chewed it slowly, wincing a moment at the taste, but swallowed it all the same. Her golden orbs widened at the female's hospitality, sinking to her haunches as she sat, moving to pluck a bit of seaweed from her shoulder. "Ma'am, I am so tired. A den would be wonderful. You are so kind, ma'am" she said softly, voice husky from salt but still carrying her harmonious accent. 

She twisted, observing her sides and making sure that no wounds stuck out. Her movements were sluggish, slow, dogged with fatigue, but she refused to fall into unconsciousness. Her throat felt soothed, and she spoke again when she noticed the wound on her flank. This one was larger than the rest, and still bled. The salt had cleansed it, very likely, but it was a sizable wound on her small body, and she worried for it. She wanted not to bother the woman, no matter how hospitable she may seem. Her stance slumped in fatigue, body feeling limp and rubbery as she murmered again, this time in another language, "Kourasménos , tóso kourasménos", a repetition of her previous words.