cut me into pieces, this is my last resort

Rivin's words are a blur through the pain. It thumps in her ears and slams into her chest as she struggles. Who knew a six-inch cut across a puppy's throat would be so dire? Not exactly registering what Rivin has instructed, she peeks out through bleary eyes at the poppy that now sits on her foreleg. Her face scrunched at it at first before she gingerly leans forward and picks it up. Chewing slowly, she tries not to gag as she forcefully swallows it. Her father trusted Rivin so she should too, right? Wishing the poppy would work quickly, Cal places her head back down on the sand, letting Rivin do her work.

It was easy now to keep still enough. The energy had been sapped from her and exhaustion flooded her body. Even when Rivin warned her that it would sting, Cal barely grimaced. Feeling the pressure of the treatment against her wound, the stinging was vibrant, but through the gritting of her teeth, she welcomed the feeling of relief. "A-am I gon' live?" Cal rasps as she peers up at Rivin who looks equally stressed as she felt pained.