» waking up ;; trip to hogsmeade [ closed ]
Darkness.
That was all Clara had felt until now.
Abstract shards of light were gradually breaking through the fleshed crevices of her eyelids, earning a sharp hiss to mist into the ash-flaked atmosphere. Oh god, her throat. It practically cracked, it was so dry. Every time she swallowed it was if sandpaper was chaffing against her windpipe.
A laboured cough bruised her chest as she struggled to prop herself up on her elbows, her expression contorted with pain as she physically felt a good few ribs rattle within her chest - prodding the tender lining and provoking a sharp wince to seethe from her lips. Her lips. Tainted with a crusted claret stain, she coughed once more and a few droplets of blood fell from her mouth - everything ached.
Everything.
But she was certain nothing was broken which would impair her from walking - it was certainly painful to breathe. Maybe her ribs were broken or fractured at least, most likely bruised. And this dull ache. . ringing through her head, as if someone had struck her over the head with a steel hammer; her digits fumbled upwards to stroke across her forehead, wincing as a crusted substance crumbled beneath her tips. Blood. How sickening.
She could barely bring herself to stand but she realised that if she didn't, she would surely be dead soon. Gritting her teeth with a brute force, she stumbled to her feet. Mentally repressing the memories of previous - if she didn't fight, then they couldn't win. Such a lion mentality something she had always been ashamed of. But now, it almost seemed like quality. Shining like a diamond amongst bronze.
