Dawnlark Plains come back down to my knees

the rip across her rear haunch battled with the half-missing ear for title of worst injury acquired. her rear limb burned and throbbed, the herbs stuck their battling steadfast infection. it was deep and ugly, inflicted while she'd been prone. 

the huntress limped her way to a small glade she'd taken to favoring. there wasn't much else to do except imagine all the ways in which she'd like the hurt the pale male, and bear her pain with crushing boredom. she ought to learn, though previous lessons never seemed to stick. perhaps she ought to ask sunny, or the newest member, whenever it is that her wounds stitch themselves back together as all the other (albeit, smaller) ones have done.