Noctisardor Bypass talking to the moon

The adrenaline wore off sooner than later. Druid’s hind legs buckled and she tumbled roughly to the ground with a grunting whine. She lay there for long moments, her heart hammering her ribs. She lifted her head just to make certain she wasn’t being pursued, then let it drift back to the ground while she waited to catch her breath.

She knew what that foam meant, particularly paired with excessive aggression. Druid couldn’t remember the name of the sickness off the top of her head, though she’d learned all about it during her solitary years. She knew enough to be scared out of her wits, a sense of doom creeping into her heart like black ivy.

When its beat settled some, she sat up to check out the bite wound. It was deep. Druid cursed the bitch, even though she knew it wasn’t really her fault, that she was doomed too. With great effort, she heaved onto all fours and limped the rest of the way to the bypass, arriving between the arches long after nightfall.

If only @Etienne was here, she thought almost wistfully as she hobbled to the stream at the foot of Ashtone Cliffs. Druid considered washing the wound, then eased down onto her good hip instead. Cleaning it wouldn’t do any good, just like there was nothing Etienne could do for her even if he was here. Besides, it might be dangerous for him—or anyone else—to come in contact with the wound.

She should call for @Heda, she knew, but she found herself too choked up to make a sound. Druid supposed she should let her sister and children sleep, then break the news in the morning. For now, she slipped to her belly and crawled into the cold water to numb the pain, tears sliding down her cheeks in frightened silence.