Lost Creek Hollow the ground remembers

the woman crumpled. she saw it coming a moment after her apology, but could do nothing to help as she simply stood and watched in some detached state of confusion. she moved on uneasy legs to press her muzzle to the woman's shoulder, completely unsure how to proceed. should she offer reassurance? yes, surely. but what? 'it wasn't that awful?' 'we survived?' that would hardly be true, and she settled on, "it's in the past, now." her ears had pressed back a fraction in her uncertainty, the distinct scent of vomit stronger now she she stood so near. she wondered if this was some side effect of her illness, and lapsed into uncomfortable silence while she waited and hoped or this to pass.