Stavanger Bay I don't mind if I smoke away your taste

blood, again, the scent of it thick and horrible, sending lestan into the final spiral of the last stress.
he encouraged blossom out of the den as quickly as he was able, trying to wipe the worst of it from the stone before it bled permanently; he stationed blossom outside the shelter's mouth. "stay here. i am going to find mama, all right?"
lestan was torn, frenzied; could he leave her? should he follow? reverie was calling for the healer but there was so much blood, so much; it was all he could see, rivers of it, lakes of it, her limp body lying in a rapidly spreading pool;
he dashed off;
"reverie!" came his tortured howl upon the sea wind, until he found her, bleeding, and the woman he suspected was bridget, or would have suspected were not all his focus for his wife; "please, please sit down; please," never walk away like that again, it was the creek once more in shades and perhaps their new doctor could tell by his gasping breaths and panicked eyes that he was having an attack of sorts.