It feels like only seconds, and I flutter my lashes open again. Nausea hits me hard, and the burning ache and throbbing pulse in my ankle, although far less intense, make me groan, flinch, and try to sit up.
“Stay.” A warm, strong hand presses harshly to my forehead, pushing me back down ungracefully, like a soft slap of pressure, and I blink awake properly. Aware it's glowy and amber and weirdly warm now out here in the wilderness. I'm also lying down, comfortable, and not wet at all. Disoriented by the change of atmosphere and even light, and not sure where I am.
The smell, though, of burning, smokiness, that sort of matches how my leg feels, and I mumble incoherently while still being dazed. Letting my dream state spill out verbally.
“Are you burning my foot off? Don’t eat it.” I mut
