What Doesn't Kill You /May/ Make You Stronger

He could've been out of it for five minutes or five days and he wouldn't know the difference. He laid in the trodden grass and softly groaned as his head throbbed, raising a paw to rub at his skull only to wince and whimper as he pulled his paw away. It hurt more than anything he had ever felt, even the near starvation he had been in when he was found by the militant group. He'd much prefer that end than this, if that was what was happening. Certainly this wasn't normal, it couldn't be right?

He could hear them approaching before they even spoke, but he had no energy or even will to open his eyes or lift his head. He felt so heavy and his eyes threatened to roll back, but the approaching other spoke and although it may not have seemed very loud, it sounded like she yelled it straight into his ear. Visible wincing as she spoke, he hissed in pain through gritted teeth. Why did she have to yell?! He wanted to cover his ears, to fold them down against his head to block out even some of the noise, but that would probably hurt too so he stopped himself while he was ahead.

"I... I don't know," he admitted after a moment, his voice very soft and likely barely audible, but he sounded so loud to  himself as his voice reverberated through his body. "My head hurts," he clarified a bit, though his voice was still so quiet that he was hard to hear.

"Speech!"