Lake Rodney Whispering

@Shrike 

It had been a very long month. Killing and eating the meagre wolf-cub had given Hedda a temporary relief and strength to last for one more week. After that her fragile health went down-hill quickly. She had not wandered far from the caldera and yet no one had come looking for her, she had half-expected that a "squad of justice" would put an end to her suffering and she would be able to die honorably - "in battle" and not in a "soft and comfortable bed".

This had not happened, however, and she was left to wait 'till the Death herself came and claimed her rotten soul. Which she was in no haste of doing, apparently, because after every time Hedda closed her eyes hoping that this would be the last time, she would open them and see much the same world around her. And few days ago the old hag got fed up with waiting. Her lungs were failing her, coughing spells were often and her muzzle was smeared with her own blood and foam.

Up until this very morning she had not paid much attention to her surroundings, however, when a strangely familiar smell hit her nostrils, she finally lifted her head to have a good look. There was a lake and the scent came somewhere from the muddy banks. She half-walked/half-crawled towards the place, sniffing the air and the ground, until she found, what she had been looking for. The root of a hemlock was sticking out from the ground. She grabbed it between her teeth and clawed the ground to remove it.

It gave in easily and without hesitation, she chewed and swallowed chunks of it, taking no notice of the bitter juice burning her throat or the fact that the next hour was probably going to be the most painful in her existance. Yet... as Hedda lied on her side and closed her eyes, she realized that this one hour against life-time of struggle and pain was nothing. 

ooc: she has consumed hemlock root, which contains deadly neurotoxins.