Lion Head Mesa [wp] ferrous

A trauma.
A trauma?
That was a word Zaahira had not heard before. There were many, often thrown around; loss, grief, war, death; no. It wasn't that, was it?
But even still, as the doctor gives her prescription, an odd taste forms on the back of Zaahira's tongue, and she finds herself staring at the space between her eyebrows. Yes.
A flicker of wildfire eyes, and perhaps she was simply losing her mind, but she sifts around in the magenta sea of Tavina's own and in the rubble she could swear she found the shared pain of two women who now sleep alone.
Trauma. A breath is drawn, heavy, before her lip begins to quiver.
I found her body.