Phantom Hollow Der Winter wird auf den Wangen,

the moonlight grows nearer, and though familiar wariness prickles along her spine, she can not afford mistrust in this moment. the sylph twists; something comes unbound, spilling onto the earth. she watches her movements; confident, sure, and yet laced with haste as she moves. understanding even through the fog that has come down to take residence within her skull, the corvid tilts her neck back again, soft sound leaving her throat at the dull throbbing of pain. 

she remains still as the woman works, silent save for sharp exhalations of breath when the pain becomes enough to overcome the dulling effect of shock and blood loss. once more does the woman speak, offering familiar leaves, somewhat wilted. gingerly, moving with great care as to not upset the pelt wrapped over her throat, the wraith moves to mouth the plants, swallowing them with no small amount of discomfort. 

her thoughts drift, half-formed and quickly fading, though as the moonbeam speaks she knows she too harbours no desire to part from her. " thank you. " nothing more than a breath of wind, hitched and hoarse. her eyelids are heavy, and she slides somewhat toward the earth that seems so eager to pull her down within it.