Wheeling Gull Isle it's been so long you thought you would die

It took several moments to fully come back to awareness, pulled from the haze by the gnawing pain in her abdomen. Dimly she registered the feeling of another crouched over her, so close— too close. She tensed, the barest hints of some grotesque recollection tugging at her, and for a beat prepared to lash out. Somehow, she registered Rokig's scent before she could act.
She turned slightly, buried her face in his chest fur, and cried. It was all she could do for a few minutes, sobs hitching every time the pain in her stomach got worse. But eventually the nausea rose up again, and she pulled herself from under him as gently and quickly as she could to vomit several feet away; nothing came up but bile.
Rokig, The yearling choked out quietly when finally the heaving ceased. She shivered fiercely, making no attempt to move from where she stood— in fact, she looked as if she might fall over any moment. Please— I have to leave. I have to— A sob cut her words off. I have to get off the island. The vomiting promptly began again, just as violent as before.