She wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking or fact that her head felt a trifle better. She cracked her eyes open a little when asked and watched the world and Alexi spin for her efforts. She grunted and quickly closed them and took stock of her hurts. Her armor was good, very good, the best she could afford and she took very good care of it. It had kept her from a great many cuts from her recent battles and while it could absorb some of the impact, it couldn’t absorb all. She would ache come morning, but then she ached most mornings. Her cheek was another matter. It hurt, a lot and she was pretty certain it was more than just the relatively fresh stitches having been tugged. 

“No, I think I’m fine, or at least intact.” She reached to touch the spot on her cheek where the blood had hit skin and winced. The skin was raw, feeling like a burn that was deep enough it would take a bit to blister. Though she’d washed the gunk off, it had clearly done its work with how her head spun and her skin hurt. She was going to be such a pretty thing, she reflected bitterly. 

“This is going to scar, isn’t it?” she asked and then chuckled wryly. “There was something in the blood, it must be some sort of defense mechanism. Renders any prey capable enough to hurt it, immobile or something. My head is spinning, a lot. It’s better when I shut my eyes but it isn’t gone.” 

She shivered, the side of her facing the fire was almost comfortable but the rest was chilled from the wet under tunic and breeches that clung to her skin. Shivering and head spinning was a wretched combination that she would not even wish on her worst enemy. 

“By the gods I wish I’d at least have had the fun of drinking myself into this state.” 

Speaking of which, she felt for her belt and the pouch that kept her flask and realized it was up hanging with her armor.

“I need my medicine kit from my tent, a clean shirt, breeches and socks, all will be found in my bags, and before that, if you could get me my flask I will be forever grateful. It is in the pouch on my belt.” 

That is if the river hadn’t washed it away. She prayed it hadn’t or come morning she’d miss the spins for the headache that was going to settle in. 

“You are going to have to help me change too, so you’ll probably need the flask as well.” Self-depreciating humor, it helped to hide how very wretched she felt.