"I can't imagine what that must have been like," Valerie said as she worked on the wound. She tried to imagine it, too, but of course it wouldn't compare to a real experience. To be so badly wounded as to be unable to move, in the chaos and horror of a battle... she nearly shuddered. All of her own experiences with bloodshed had been on such a smaller scale, and even the bloody skirmish she'd been involved in the day before had been over so fast. There was hardly any time for the mind to process it.

"I think it's safe to say I've been lucky in that regard, at least so far." She half smiled at a memory. "Worst I can claim is falling from my horse as a child, the first time I lost control. Broke my arm and two ribs." It certainly hadn't been funny to her at the time; maybe it was the feeling of simpler times that brought the smile to her face. "There wasn't much bleeding involved there... just an excess of crying. There, all done."

The cut wasn't really worthy of being stitched up, nor was it bleeding severely, but it was at least cleaned and bandaged adequately now. She scooted back a bit and lay back on her bedroll, staring up at the protective canopy of vines and settling her hands atop her belly. Very few of her friends had called her Val back home, and none of her family, but she didn't mind. It was probably a better name for a mercenary woman, after all.

Her stomach rumbled, and she sighed. "Ugh. The food about ready?"