Swiftcurrent Creek i'm gnashing my teeth like a child of cain

Consciousness for extended periods of time became more frequent as the hours passed and the pain began to dull to an ache. But it was everywhere, still, and try as she might, any attempt at leaving her den left her wrought with fatigue and muscles that felt as if they threatened to burst.
She hated it.
She had no more tears left to cry. No more energy to worry, to panic, to self-destruct — she was merely a husk with sunken eyes and open, raw wounds, jagged-edged; the remnants of a grenade and left only with the debris of who she was before the incident in the marsh.
She knew not where she and Silvertongue stood. Thoughts of Mae and the newborn still flicker in and out of her mind; Eshe and Arric, who, if she remembered, had taken care of them. They were safe. But she still hadn't spoken to @Akavir.
Did he know about any of this? Did he hate her for sticking her nose in this, for getting herself almost killed? For almost killing someone else? Would he—
She sits at the lip of the den with her chin upon her forepaws. She stares out at the moon-dipped treeline just as she had the night before and lets the current sweep her to blissful nothingness.