Blackwater Islands gave myself in that misty light

I'm fine, she shot back, shaking her head. Just. . .tired. But still in possession of all her limbs—well, somewhat. Her twisted foreleg was still there, but that would remain, forever. She stared at the place where a leg should have been, a little lost for words.

Shook her head again. Saved your life, she echoed. What the hell is this place?

It was some tortuous mix of Blackfeather Woods and Undersea, dark and suffused with salt. Like something out of her nightmares, of all her worst moments blended together. 

She was not ill in body but in mind; there was nothing the healer could do for her.