Redsand Canyon death by a thousand cuts

though wanheda should've been paying more attention to both the strange scents all around her and to what was going on in her immediate vicinity — she does not. thus, when the voice calls out to her, she turns her head quickly and then visibly winces as the pain pulls at her wounds. she tries her best to summon the energy to be guarded ...but it is not to be found. all she pulls from within herself is exhaustion that presses heavily upon her shoulders.

are you ok?

the question echoes around in her head; hazy and unclear. it felt loaded and like she wasn't sure whether she was supposed to brush it off or not.

i... don't know. she finally admits in a heavy sigh that she feels like barely scrapes the surface. she doesn't feel ok necessarily but with no recollection of how she got here or the injuries ...or anything she is left grasping as desperate will-o-wisps that give her no answers. maybe.