Dragoncrest Cliffs the moon plays the ocean like a violin

This is vague but I wanted to get it up before it was too far out. Set for this morning.

The night proves to be difficult for Thuringwethil. She can’t find one position for her to rest in that’s comfortable. No matter how she sat or laid, each breath causes a wave of pain and her head throbbed off and on through the late hours that eventually lead into the morning. Most of the time she’s sitting up sternal near the back of the cave, @Wildfire nearby but not touching, and she’s staring off at nothing in particular. She’d never been more aware of her breathing as she is now with likely two broken ribs in her chest.

As the morning began to brighten, filling the cave with splashes of sunlight, Thuringwethil groans and tries to shift into a better position. She sucks in a breath when the movement shocks her like a kick to the chest but she tries to keep quiet so she doesn’t draw too much attention to herself. The wounds that covered her body have long stopped bleeding, causing tightness in her skin that is just as uncomfortable and itchy and knowing she can do little about it. Her eye is still bloodshot, though she can’t see it, and her head is filled with a dull ache amplified by the lack of sleep.

Thuringwethil releases a slow breath as she tries once more to shift her weight into something suitable for rest.