Porcupine Ridge amygdala

if she slept teya did not know it, fitful snatches of slumber stolen here and there when her body finally bent beneath the downpour. and then, trudging; the sound of foot upon waterlogged ground. she lifted her rotpumpkin muzzle, blinking between the water-drops toward the shadow casting itself toward her.
an androgynous figure; teya drew a breath and straightened to a sitting position. a stranger, a tumorous spread of color across this one's face. teya stared, fascinated; would the shade of death pass beyond or fade into something mutable here?