Totoka River Stoned on Shiva

The white woman moved away from her and Olive lay upon the moist ground, aware once more of her physical body. Until then, she had been so racked with adrenaline [the need to survive] that she had not thought of anything less essential than breathing. Now that she had been plucked from the waters as an eagle does a fish, Olive had the liberties to do as the nurse asked and scanned her body to determine the seriousness of her injuries. 

Olive quickly deduced that she had escaped from the watery sepulcher famously unscathed. Her head rang with an ache that was low and thick, but she assumed that to be a normal sort of pain. Her spine and torso still felt her exertions, but it were her paws and lower extremities which we tender from colliding with rocks and subsequently hauling her weigh out of the rushing waters. They throbbed and olive pulled her pale feet in towards her body.

“I think I’ll be okay.” Olive murmured softly, wondering what aches might present themselves in the coming days.  She turned her forest-hued gaze up to the self sacrificial woman, suddenly feeling very grateful and fortunate [rather than victimized and threatened. “You stayed?” she questioned, honored by the woman’s kindness. “Who are you?”