Ankyra Sound They told me that my life is headed for the devil

So she stayed.

She still didn't feel like herself, and hadn't for weeks.  The physical damage from starvation and her wounds had run through her, and delayed treatment had caused a light fever to settle into them.  She felt at times like clawing her own muzzle off, but the pain (and the image of the damage already done) were enough to prevent it.

She lay instead with her back to the cliffs and her eyes on the water.  She'd dreamed last night that she'd been in Drageda still, and had swam out and around, testing the cliff's edge.  She'd been pulled under, though, and woke gasping for air.  It had put her off sleeping for the night.  She'd had dreams last time her wounds had taken a turn, she recalled, though at least this time there had been no wandering.

There were a million thoughts on her mind, but she hardly had the energy for any of them.  So she let them ebb like the tide, lapping at the shore of her mind, as she looked absently at the water.  Later, maybe.