Spotted Eagle Mountain To the outside, the dead leaves laid on the lawn

Any touch made her wince; she was painful everywhere, and it was intensified any time she felt his nose against her skin. When he suggested that she needed to vomit more, question and fear filled her gaze. She had vomited so much that she was sure there was nothing left for her to bring up. Had she not been so weak, she might have questioned his instructions. But he was quickly gone again, not that she magically had the ability to speak then anyway. 

Her eyes had closed again in the time that he was gone, but they flicked open as she felt the cool liquid against her sore, scabbed lips. It dripped into her sandpaper mouth next but just as it brought much needed relief, it also worsened her need for more. She felt like she could never drink enough to make up for how much fluid she had lost. The water didn't turn her stomach as she thought it might. She looked down at the plant he placed next to her face and the thought of eating it made her wince again. She was so tired of vomiting, and she didn't understand why he wanted her to vomit more. But she was in no position to argue with him. Mahler knew far more about healing than she did, so she reluctantly scooted her head over the plant and picked it up with her teeth. It tasted awful and every part of her protested the idea of chewing and swallowing anything. There was hardly any saliva in her mouth, so getting the chewed pieces down was a long and drawn out process. When she managed to swallow that last pieces from her mouth, the need to vomit soon followed. Her sides sucked in and she winced as she tried to angle herself up more, scraping her festering sores against the uneven stone of the den floor. She went through all the motions of vomiting, but only more thick, yellow fluid came up, along with all of the plant she worked so hard to get down. 

She slumped back on the ground, her breathing slow and labored for a few moments. All she could think about was the feeling of the water against her lips and tongue. That was the first thing to touch her that wasn't painful, and she would do just about anything right then to get more. She struggled to sit up again, ignoring the protest from her sores. She saw the moss discarded on the ground and reached for it, clasping it between her weak jaws. She was able to squeeze a small amount of water from it before she had to drop it and rest against the wall. She could feel the coolness move down her throat and into her stomach. She reveled in the relief for a few minutes, closing her eyes and leaning fully against the wall of the cave. When she opened her eyes again, they sluggishly scanned around her, settling when they landed on Mahler. She wanted to thank him and ask him how the hell he was even here, but she was too tired. So she just stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes, relief flooding her gaze again.