When I woke up, I felt a cool, wet weight on my forehead.
And thirst, intense thirst, together with intense pain in my leg.
I moved, sitting up, the towel that covered my forehead slipping down.
"Dana!" Jack, who was sitting next to the bed, exclaimed.
"Water," I asked.
He gave me a cup, and I started drinking, noticing it wasn't water — but some kind of salty lemonade. Still, it was sweet enough.
Once I had drunk the lemonade, my thirst slightly sated, it came to the next point on my list.
"Can I get a painkiller, please?" I asked.
I was sure that by now, they had called a Healer (or a rural medic, at least; they might not have Healers in Kesteven).
"Sure," Jack said, giving me a pill and some more lemonade. "The doctor said not to a***e it too much, though. It's strong stuff."
