Broken Antler Fen Welcome To Hell, My Dear

Ambrosia hadn't noticed it when living in the mountains, just passed it off as her body being unable to handle the exertion - despite being a long term and seasoned Mercenary - and went on with her life. Even in her time home, she'd just assumed she needed time to recover, to once again adapt to the flat and marshy lands on Broken Antler Fen. 

But it'd been a month now, and it was getting worse - particularly, her balance and control of her muscles. She often twitched, shook, and tumbled over - but that wasn't all. Any type of focus was getting harder and harder - halfway through a patrol, she would blank out and start heading for the lake she saw in the distance. It would usually come back to her in a few moments, and she'd take a dip in the icy water to freshen her senses before running the rest of the way - both to stay warm and to help stay on task. 

It was when talking became a problem that Ambrosia began to worry - thoughts were one thing, and it wasn't odd for her to sometimes be scatterbrained; being unable to think of the correct words, or even remembering how to say them was a whole different field - and after once again stumbling away from a forgotten border patrol, she loosed a howl for @Sebastian. He was gonna be a medic, right? He could help her. The howl was laced with confusion and urgent, and just the movement of throwing her chin up threw her balance: she tumbled forward onto her chest, legs buckling and folding underneath her like a cat, and the tawny woman didn't bother to do any more than right herself. Panting in both fear and exertion, ears pinned, she waited for her alpha right where she was.