Jade Fern Grove his heart was trapped in a cage

he takes a moment to speak and when he doesn, she responds only with a nod. she doesn't want to explain the circumstances that led to her injuries, the sudden violence of the man has an uncomfortable feeling she can't quite place rise in her chest. it's his next words taht cause her some concern - she'd never thought that it'd be possible to die from her injuried in the first place, and she blinks at him. perhaps the lack of sensation stemming from the break further up has furthered her connection from the tail that had once seemed an integral part of her, but the wound doesn't seem part of her in the same way her healing leg and bruised ribs do. 

she accepts his help easily, and nods again. "moss sounds good. I'll help find some." of course, he could be spewing bullshit, but his explaination sounds concrete and the alternative is doing nothing and letting it fester. "what's sterile?" as with the woman who'd helped with her leg, she tries to commit whatever knowledge he offers to memory. 

she hobbles a little further from the bank, nosing at the base of a fir where moss grows in sparse clumps. at least it should be plentiful here, and finding enough of it can't be that hard.