Blind Cat's Bluff

Blood pours freely from her shoulder now. Without the bear's teeth to fill the cuts, there is nothing to stop it from welling inside her armour. Some of it runs under the leather, soaking into the cloth of her clothes and leaking out through gaps and the wrist cuff. More still flows through the cuts in the leather left by the bear's teeth, and it flows sluggishly over the surface of the leather to join the blood eking out along her hand. As the bear backs away, the woman presses her good hand against her shoulder, pushing the leather against the wounds in an attempt to at least slow the bleeding. She couldn't move her right arm. It hung limply at her side. The woman didn't spare it any concern for the time being. She's focused on the bear before her. Gods willing it would decide she was more effort than it was worth and would run away.

It does the next best thing, though, and falls down. Good. With all luck it would bleed out and she would be able to skin it. It would be
such a fantastic
blanket

Once the threat is gone, the adrenaline keeping the woman on her feet falls away too. She collapses to her knees in a wave of exhaustion. Her head nods towards her chest, her sunken eyes half-close...

No!
Have to stay awake have to keep going have to get back.

The pain in her arm has subsided to a dull ache that flashes like a knife with every beat of her heart as blood is pumped through the damaged veins. Have to get this armour off. Have to bandage the wound. Her blood-soaked hand fumbles with the ties and snaps that keep the too-large armour attached to her body. The chest falls off her after a few snaps are undone, and the sleeves with it. Blood sloshes out like rainwater from an over-turned boot, splattering to the ground. No bandages. Stupid. Stupid not to bring bandages.

Gripping the cuff of her good sleeve in her teeth, the woman squirms to pull her arm out of it. Reaching out from under the bottom, she pulls a knife from her boot and saws through the sleeve in a few awkward motions. It's hard to tie the sleeve around her shoulder one-handed, but she manages. She would have to do with a tourniquet for now, until she could get back to Gelina and the others. Gelina could fix her arm. Gelina could fix any wound.

Have to go. Have to get back.

Clutching her shoulder, the woman tries to stand up on her feet. But the effort makes her head swim and her vision blur to a dull white. She sways once and falls back to her knees.

No. Get up. Get up!

But it is no use. Her legs won't listen to her. Sleep looms at the edges of her vision, threatening to over take her. She couldn't sleep here. It was too cold. Maram had taught her that, that she should never fall asleep because she was cold, because she would never wake up from that sleep. Had to find something warm.

Only one option.

Finally, she looks up. The bear. If it was still there it would be dead by now. She could take advantage of it's fur and residual body heat and...
That couldn't be right.
A black skinned boy lay where the bear had been, naked. Her eyes narrow with distrust, but she finds herself with no other option.

Returning the knife to its sheathe in her boot, she crawls over to him. It was suicide, but this was her only option. She was just going to have to pray to the gods that this Ice Elf would be merciful and not kill her when he woke up. The woman falls down next to him, hand on the pommel of her knife. Her head is met with a pillow of moss, and within a second she is asleep.