Roth collapsed next to Ragnarok, too weak to stand proudly even after managing to eat some of the pony. Every limb in her body ached, and her shoulder felt as if it had ripped off. Wincing, she raised her head to survey the damage, her heavily-injured eye closed. She was bleeding profusely, and painfully and slowly sniffed it. She sensed that something was buried in there. Carefully probing with her teeth, they knocked against something sharp- the remains of an arrow. Roth gathered all her willpower and roughly pulled it out, spitting it on the ground. The gleam of the arrow shone wickedly up at her and wavered alarmingly as Roth's eyes watered with pain and mingled with the blood. She could feel warm, sticky blood pouring down her side. Closing her eyes, she settled into a sleep, escaping the pain of reality, the smell of her own burnt hair and flesh infiltrating her dreams.
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