Bearclaw Valley Though you can see when you’re wrong

the blood loss has driven the young girl into a state of near-bliss, or perhaps delirium. her head felt fuzzy, blurred at the edges. the searing pain was nearly a prick now. it frightened her, because she wasn't sure if this was her body shutting down and preparing for...for death? is this what it feels like, to be on the cusp of it?

it'd felt like ages had passed, when it'd been merely an hour or so. and the entire time, cole never left her. he cradled her as she'd once cradled the dead bird she'd found, back in her arrival to teekon. gentle, comforting. her vision frayed and doubled at times, and his urgent voice often sounded muffled. would his voice be the last she'd ever hear? 

perhaps that wouldn't be so bad. 

and then there's more. wolves she doesn't recognize, swarming around her. it makes her chest tighten; they swarm the same way the coyotes did. she whimpered—strained, weak—and buried her face into cole's chest. but they weren't here to hurt her. cole wouldn't let them hurt her. 

"i'm tired," she murmured. so tired. in her minds eye, as she let her heavy eyelids flutter closed, she pictures herself back in kathhara. sitting on the coast, listening to the gulls cry and the waves hit the sand. it was lovely.