Going Down, Down.

The raid was finished and, though Asla had prevailed in both of her battles, she walked away feeling as though she had lost. Fatigue ran rampant through the blonde fae and she barely made it away from the battlefield before she collapsed. Her limbs shook with exhaustion and her vision was a little spotty. This had never happened after a fight before and yet the woman wasn't surprised.

She'd been sick. It wasn't too difficult to hide. Everyone close was off doing their own things, so Asla stuck close to the den or covered herself when out in the light of day. Her coat had begun to dull and her already svelte frame had become thinner still, leaving her looking slightly emaciated. Asla had little appetite these days. Maybe it was because of the illness. It was probably because of the illness.

Once the initial wave of exhaustion ebbed, Asla made her way shakily to her paws and began slowly moving back towards her own den. She needed to sleep and probably drink something. Definitely sleep. She felt so very, very tired.

"Asla Indarra"