don't paint me black when i used to be golden

She was allowed... out. At least a bit more than she had been. Hazel wouldn't tell you that she'd missed the sunlight, no. Not at all. The glare was intense, and the red and pale yearling was left squinting against it. She still grit her teeth when she moved too quickly, or turned her head too much. Her muscles were sore, and she tired far more easily than she had before. All of it was part of the healing process, Halo insisted, but she wasn't so sure. At this point it didn't seem like she'd ever fully recover.

Things had been fine, and then they weren't fine. The fever that had swept over her, the infection, her body seemed to reject healing in every way, shape, and form. When would she stop hurting? More than that, when would the nightmares stop? When would they stop coming for her at night, over and over and over. Ceaseless. The mounting pressure of it all. Fuck, was she ever going to be okay again?

Hazel carefully stretched, letting go a soft growl as a twinge ran through her shoulder. Fuck why did that still hurt? Whatever. All she could do was squint against the late morning sun and at least attempt to soak in a bit more fresh air, a bit more warmth, before going back to bed.

"Speech"