Dawnlark Plains god, oh my god, where have you been?

caiaphas' throat worked heavily, burning. her silence was punctuated by the stranger's voice, which carried a lilting accent to it that tickled caiaphas' long ear. she tried to prop her head up so she could rest her fevered gaze on the woman -- her strength was so weak she rocked and her head fell to the snow.

snow -- water -- yet she could not force her jaws to work, to grasp or chew -- it was fate mocking her, water all around that she could neither drink nor seize in her teeth. she collapsed to her side, a low groan fluttering past her lips which were far too lax to belong to a wolf possessed of health. could she stand? caiaphas seemed to have no response, but after several moments of haggard breathing, a quiet "no." came from her lips.