Hushed Willows if i get home before daylight, i just might get some sleep tonight

Qilaq stirs in her sleep every so often but it is never long enough for her to remain, pushed to exhaustion she is forced to snooze a little longer. It is not until the sun starts to descend that she feels closer to the surface. The sun warms her dark coat—what’s left of it—and heats the exposed skin, darkened in pigment from abuse.
 
She is not so close to the surface that she wakes for another’s approach. The waterfall has become background noise, blocking out most sound (a poor choice on her part, but exhaustion clouds her mind), that she jumps in fright when the single word is spoken. Her heart launches into her throat and her silver eyes widen in panic, pupils blown.
 
“No, no, no, no,” she mumbles, and continues to mumble, as she frantically gets to her feet. Tired legs struggle to keep her supported, nails digging into the ground (several claws missing between all four feet), and surges forward. The stranger does not back up in time and she clips her in the shoulder, stumbling to the ground and clacking her teeth together. Blood pools in her mouth, sending her heart into overdrive, and her body fights against escape.