Duskfire Glacier Failures are inevitable [M]

An urgent, inquiring voice drifted to Lane's ears from the precipice above. Imaq. 

"A poultice for bleeding," Lane called to her, "Horsetail and marigold, if you have those with you. If you don't, I ha--" 

Lane didn't get a chance to finish her thought; her attention snapped back to Rye as he began scolding them. Lane flattened her ears, feeling a bit guilty. He wasn't entirely wrong. With her unpredictable waves of dizziness, Lane probably shouldn't have climbed down the edge of the pit. She normally wouldn't have attempted it, but something about seeing Rye down here bleeding had driven her to attempt the risky climb. 

Even so, the damage was done. Apart from Imaq, they were all now in the pit, and refusing treatment at this point was doing little-to-nothing to protect the pregnant Duskfire women. On some rational level, Rye must know that. 

Tzila glanced at her knowingly, and Lane mouthed the word "concussion" to her. Noncompliance and agitation were red flags for concussion, and Rye's reasoning seemed to be somewhat lacking to boot. Tzila appealed to Rye with fair, logical points, but Lane wasn't convinced that Rye would be able to hear her logic, particularly if he was concussed. 

"Just tell us what to do, Rye. If you want us all to climb out together, we're right behind you." Lane attempted to share another meaningful look with Tzila, equal parts gratitude and concern. She appreciated the guardian coming to her defense-- she was certainly right, Lane was not that delicate yet!-- but the fact remained that Rye needed medical attention, and he needed it fast. Arguing with him was just going to delay his treatment even longer, and every second they wasted meant more lost blood.