to the depths

Henbane had washed back up days ago. Fighting to get her bearings, put together her sense of self again. The sea hadn't been kind to her. No, she was pretty sure she never wanted to swim like that again. Every part of her ached, her head hurt, and her memories were... fragmented. Fragmented at best. Even before she left was foggy, hazy. Hanging around Hen's head in a way she doesn't really know how to describe. Too many pieces. Fuck, she missed her dad.

The sun hung high in the sky when she finally dragged herself to her feet, the afternoon of the fourth day. She'd survived the worst of the soreness and pain, the shellfish she'd been able to scavenge was enough to sustain, and Hen found herself equal parts hungry and cranky. Back aching. Chest aching. A dark mood hanging over her head, but at least she was feeling well enough to walk the beach and check for abandoned fishing nets.

Score. Pulling in a line, not quite a net but a trap with an assortment of crab. No bad. Hen was distracted by her spoils, she didn't hear the three coyotes as they approached. No, it's not until they'd sprung upon the creature that Henbane even realized something was off. Swinging her head, she catches one, but she can't conceal the yelp that springs from her throat. Fuck.

"Speech"