Washed away

A careful inspection found bottles with mixtures across the floor. Feathers scattered among them, and herbs dangling from the ceiling. It was logical to assume she was in a healers den, and perhaps explained why she was still alive. She’d never been in a healers den before, despite her many injuries.

Movement in the doorway had her jerking suddenly, and holding back a hiss of pain as her body reminded her how bad an idea that was. Helpless, she was helpless. But that wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling to her. Her nostrils flared as he took in his scent, looking somewhere below his chin. This… was the wolf that had pulled her out of the snow, and had chased the bear off its kill. But why? A polar bear was an incredible risk to take on. She wasn’t worthy. He moved into the den, closer to her as he grabbed some things and spoke of redressing it. “How should I address you, My lord?” the words were raspy past her throat, spoken without affliction. Buying herself time. Time to read the situation, to understand why she was here.

"Speech"