Motes of light danced across her eyes as she lay prone on the ground, her face upturned toward the open night sky. She didn't know when she had traded the empty void of her shuttered eyelids for the star-studded night sky, but she didn't imagine that it mattered. Her breaths still came with the slow, steady rise of someone fast asleep, and she was having trouble sorting out her thoughts from the sensation of the earth against her shoulder and the rush of cool air over her body.
The slender mare begins to stir, but each movement is fraught with dizziness so strong that she must close her eyes to weather each bout until it passes. Each inch is its own small victory, and when she is, at last, laying upright she sighs with relief. From this new vantage point, a few things become clear.
First, there is a damp substance that coats the side of her face that had lain against the ground and she thinks at first that it must be mud, but the coppery tang in the air has her searching for a different word. Blood. The rusty smell meant there was blood somewhere. And while Sonorae could not see it, blood crawled down the side of her face from her temple and downward as if she had simply grown a new bloodmark. This was accompanied by other wounds that littered her body which also went unnoticed by the groggy woman. As if summoned by her realization, pain also reasserted itself and she couldn't help a small gasp of surprise, quickly followed by a mewl of pain as her head began to throb.
Secondly, everything seemed fuzzy and indistinct. She could tell that she was in the middle of an open space, given that she could still see the stars. Damp grass lay below her body, and a ring of trees was clearly not far away, although their edges were indistinct to her eyes. Even the light of the moon above made her want to cover away from its brightness, but what was worse was trying to focus on the edges of anything far away from her. Nebulous fear lurked around the edges of her thoughts, and while she could not have put into words why she was afraid, she knew that she needed help.
The prone girl attempts to speak, but no words come out and her soft wheeze goes unheard by anyone but the most astute of owls. Swallowing hard, Sonorae tries again, this time managing a weak sound that does not travel far in the dark. "Hello?"
