The Floodlands I'm with the band.

Thanks so much for joining, peeps! :D

The bird signaled affirmation and a relieved breath gusted out of Towhee. "Oh good," she said, then thought to turn toward Roz and translate the exchange. She noticed the other she-wolf was now hardly conscious and her heart leaped into her throat. She made a quick movement toward Roz's side, which caused a rush of dizziness not unlike her recent bout of heat sickness.

It was while she was trying to collect herself that Quixote arrived. She didn't notice him until he too flicked to Roz's side. Towhee jumped and nearly passed out in one fell swoop, though she managed to cling to consciousness. With that said, she couldn't manage to stay upright and sank down beside Roz, folded like a helpless fawn hidden in the forest.

"Bobcat," she said, unaware of the faintness of her own voice. Towhee felt rather disconnected as she watched Quixote attempt to help the brown she-wolf. "That's Roz," she said somewhat uselessly, flinching when a shadow appeared above. It was only Raven though. The flood of relief sent Towhee sprawling across Roz's hind legs, blood dripping from her mincemeat forehead onto the other victim, though the medic was quick to render aid to her torn face.

For whatever reason, she didn't lose consciousness entirely. Someone eventually moved her off Roz and she settled beside her prostrate hindquarters, staying still because Towhee dimly recollected Raven's lips moving to form those words: "Stay still." Had there been other words? Maybe, "You'll be okay," or something like that? Her forehead throbbed and a breath hissed through her teeth, the pain just barely keeping her awake and Raven's carefully applied coagulant helping her regain her bearings, painstakingly slowly.

It seemed like hours later that Towhee propped herself up on and elbow and blearily queried, "How's Roz?"