don't try to fix me i'm not broken

Samara had only surfaced from the dark depths of unconciousness earlier that morning, waking to an aching in her lungs, her throat feeling raw like she'd been yelling nonstop for... well who even knew how long? Her eyes stung, watering the moment any amount of light hit them. There had been a sound of scrabling somewhere around her and as the woman had strained to crain her neck a voice she hadn't known had gently told her not to move so fast, a gentle pressure on her head from something smaller than even her own paws. A pair of white paws moved into her vision and she slowly lifted her gaze to see a tall white man gently sniffing at her. A shape leapt onto his back. "How long?" She croaked, her voice breaking with the strain of unuse and something else she could yet place.

"A day." The female voice spoke again though she couldn't seem to find it's source. "You passed out in the fire." The fire! Samara was suddenly struck by panic and her body jolted. The man, immediatly placed a gentle paw on her shoulders and a soft weight returned to her stomach, tiny preassure points resting on her skull, strange limbs gently stroking her head. "Shh it's okay." The voice cooed again, this time from her stomach and she was able to figure out the gentle stroking was coming from it's owner. "It's out now. Mr. Ryhme brought you out and we, us and the other healers, have been looking after you. You'll be fine. We need to go check on a few other wolves but we left some Lavender and Meadowsweet, try and get some sleep but they are there if you need them." The voice paused and another shadow indicated it had jumped back onto the man's back. "Mr. Rhyme said you were a healer so you should know how to use them." The man must have retreated then but in truth Samara had already started falling asleep.

Since then she'd been in and out of sleep, passing another half of the day before she was suddenly jolted from her rest. A large object nearly colliding with her and the woman would have jumped to her limbs if they had obeyed her, instead her body jolted, eyes snapping open. Then the voice pulled her to reality. "Rhyme?" She croaked, blinking as she tried to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light. He was sprawled out near her, very near. The man was visibly tired, and she silently wondered if the man had slept any at all since nature's attack on his pack. "You look like how I feel." She said, her voice still harsh from unuse and what she now knew was smoke inhalation, still she managed the barest hint of humor.  

"Speech", Thoughts & You