Dragoncrest Cliffs get a hold of yourself

The woman found at the seaside sleeps endlessly. She is kept alive with regular feedings of things masticated by others, coaxed down the throat, and drinks what is dribbled upon her tongue; water or poultice of some medicine, it does not matter, she is in no state to comprehend.

The obvious burn across her flank is red and puckered with white edges. A layer of something has been administered to the fevered flesh to combat the onset of infection. Whoever it is that tends to her wounds and keeps her alive is well taught. A week passes quickly.

Her dreams are incandescent, fluctuating columns of red smoke.

Heidr wakes in a stuffy hollow that smells rancid; the smoke is gone, there is a strong salted fish smell instead. The smell of the medicine, which itself is overpowered by the heavier barbecued meat stench. Her eyelids flutter.

She turns and gags. A phlegmy mess of fish and herbs that she has no memory of eating sluices from her maw. Someone beyond her awareness comes to inspect the sounds she makes, but she does not turn to look at them in the moment.