Northstar Vale a little slow, a little late

His throat still burned every time he moved his head around, and Saleem knew that he would one day find the creature who had done this and make it pay. It had failed to kill him, but Saleem vowed not to make that mistake when he tracked it down. For now, though, he rested and recuperated. The scab that had formed across his throat was dry and cracking, unpleasant in every way he could imagine. He groaned, turning over and trying to get more sleep, but it was no use. Everything was too uncomfortable.

Giving up on sleep, despite the sun's continued recess from the sky, Saleem skulked down to the nearest source of water and slid in, the cool liquid soothing his itchy, sore wound for the time being. He was still rattled, and every little noise had him on edge. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, and Saleem's hackles raised in alarm.