Noctisardor Bypass ogeda

terrified that @Dinah would not be there when she returned, petrified that @Anselm might hurt ava while she was gone, heda ran from the mountains as she had never before run in her life, relying on the pure glut of adrenaline to carry her through unseen time back to the bypass.
rawboned and breathless, heda appeared with dirt-caked paws and carried herself on aching limp through noctisardor, calling for her daughter, for @John. 
ava is hurt! we need to leave!
pleading, prayer; she sat down beside birdsong lagoon and gasped for air as panic misted her vision; the swell of the wintersun sharply blazed upside down and heda found herself on her back, eyelids fluttering, paws tucked to her chest, fighting the groaning crush of a breakdown. not now. she had no time. 
not now, not now
and if in cruel answer, it was not his sacred voice which answered but her own body, an electrical pulse of somnolent instinct which had grown stronger in her flight.

John had been fixing the inside of the den when he heard Heda’s call right through the air. Ava was hurt, and they needed to hurry. John rushed out of the den and howled a response to Heda and to summon @Dinah if she had not heard her mother’s call. When he came upon @Widow, she was on the ground, prone, legs tucked to her body. Something was terribly wrong. “Heda!” He exclaimed in alarm, and crouched down right next to her. “What do you need me to do? Where do we need to go?” He would worry about the need before the why, time was of the essence. 

She appeared as if she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown, and it made his heart ache.

ava is hurt
dinah hadn't been sure, up until now, that she would stay here with the hollow remains of her family. in the days that passed since mama went out, she planned her escape — to go find hearthwood, maybe, or perhaps gramma towhee. to shed this life and build a new one with people that would not leave her;
and she hadn't expected the return to be so soon, and she also hadn't expected it to be like this. the note sent her running through the pines in search of the source, and along with it came the haggard response of john.
mama! crying, crying already; her heart seized at the sight that beheld her and instinctively dinah rammed herself against her mother's side in an embrace. mama, it's okay, i'm sorry it's alright, just breathe, okay? i'm sorry i'm so sorry where is she?

"the hollow," she gasped out, "in the mountains. she's — oh she fell. there was water," her voice wavered, not understanding. "there's some others there. one is treating her, etienne."
she was drawing them both toward the edge of the bypass, wanting to be gone as quickly as they were able, one arm tight around dinah, drawing strength from the child's embrace.

“Then we will move swiftly.” He tells her, “Lead the way, Heda.” And he got into position to follow her, away from the bypass and up to the mountains, to this hollow she spoke of. A silent prayer he prayed, asking for the child’s safety and swift healing.

ava had fallen. some guy named etienne was with her. dinah felt herself bristle, felt the familiar ooze of nausea creep into her gut.
alright, okay, deep breaths, the girl held herself rigid beneath her mother, carrying the weight of two. tell me where to go. i'll lead us there, okay?
she passes a soft, grateful glance toward john; the first time she had done so in months. he was here. he was helping.
he was all they had.

deep breaths.
she drew them, drew on dinah's strength, described where to go and how to get there. and then, with john, they would set off, for a chapter in their life which would indelibly change heda and perhaps them all.