Deepwood Weald I'll unwrap my fingers, free my foot and run away

She moved on top of Ceara quickly and she struggled to keep her balance, but just as quick as she had mounted she had fallen.  At least she landed outside of the depression.  Ceara pulled herself out of the hole next to Cassiopeia, sheltered her from the rain the best she could.  Her nose bent to inspect the girl's now-broken limb.

Her lip tightened as she drew her tongue across tentatively, brow furrowing.  Well, how was she going to fix this?  Out here in the Weald, the girl would certainly die; Ceara wouldn't leave her.

No, it's okay.  I've got you.  Do you know how we can fix your leg?