Fairspell Meadow four letter word for the feeling you were born into

BFW members please, perhaps. this might be my only post so please don't feel the need to match length.
condition: exhausted, underweight, broken hind left leg.

It took time to find strength, although perhaps the strength waned more than she had gained any. Crawl, roll, wiggle. Pain, pain, pain. It consumed her backside even if only one leg had suffered the tragedy. If she found it in her strength to stand it did not last long and brought on furious beatings of her heart, fearful. She was so close and yet it had never felt further away. Taste them all on the breeze while a familiar goshawk grew into a stranger — startled away or perhaps knowing she was no longer a provider for his endless appetite.

Pain, pain, pain.

Useless, useless, useless.

She knew not of women or men who had such injuries like this back in her homelands. Perhaps for a reason kinder than the suffering she was pulled through. Whoever watched over her homelands did not watch over her here. Left for other predators to salivate over, hungry with the diminishing of prey. She'd be a poor meal but beady eyes did not seem like picky eaters. To think how they might snap more of her bones in a miniature scale of the rocks. Perhaps it was that, above all else, that drove her to grovel back to the meadow. If she was to become a meal for anyone she wished it to at least be for her own. Not that she thought it would come to that but....if it did.

Far longer than it should have, she made it. A new dawn painting in colors she never understood. How heavenly they looked. Inviting with their gentle touches. She took each and every shade for granted — lived in a world of drab. The forest, herself, her company. Even as she writhed in pain on the ground, seeking to make her mark in the earth as though it might help, she admired the sky. How lovely it would be to take off in a flurry of flight with hollowed bones and wide wings. Oh but how she wished to take everyone with her! To swoop her flock into safety, to lands further than any of them could imagine.

Her writhing slowed, heartbeat leveling.

A place on the water, thick trees but this time so full of color. If she closed her eyes she could almost forget her current on-goings. Pain seemed to soften when you thought about all the good things and all your loved ones. Yet it did not lull her, seeming to only pump some little bit of fight back into her. You're not done yet. She was close enough to be found but she could not wait until someone was to patrol the morning hours. It was a soft and warbled cry, far closer to a lost and confused child than it was a Morta meant to shield all.

It was then that she would hold her fantasies a bit tighter behind her closing eyes. She would not slip away, even if she felt as though the pain would be what released her, but perhaps she would find comfort. Perhaps if she thought of all of the good still left everything would be more bearable.