Heron Lake Plateau [m] your hands can heal, your hands can bruise

He came running - which would've brightened her entire day had she not been leaking fluids. She was still turning awkwardly in circles when he arrived, trying to reach her rear end and clean the blood away. This was like last time — she thought suddenly, and froze. Her sickness had gotten so bad that most of it was lost to the haze of drugs they'd given her, but this was familiar. Red on silver. The tumultuous rolling pressure in her gut. Oh, she was so afraid! She didn't know what would come next!

But Phox was here; he dropped something in her periphery and was at her side soon enough, calling for help. Camilla should've called for Raven first, she knew that. Raven, and Towhee, and maybe even Quixote, but the only person she wanted near her was Phox. She was pacing on the spot, bent double when sharp waves of pain jabbed at her sides, burned in her belly — Phox, she gasps as she looks at him, but squeezes her eyes shut as a fresh wave of pain begins — Phox, it hurts—!