Arialla sat up convulsively as the seawater washed over her, healing the wound in her throat but not the (metaphorical) wounds in her heart. That heart pounded in her chest, suddenly alive again as she gasped for air. Her hand went to her throat, her fingers finding a scar where the Ascended's teeth had ripped her open; her other fist clenched. She turned quickly -- too quickly; her head spun -- to Gideon, almost mistaking him for her attacker, but no, he was far too tall.
"I ..." She fumbled for words, not knowing what to say. "They're gone?"
That was the most important thing: to make sure her attacker wouldn't return and finish her off, or just leave her helpless again. Everything else could wait. Still, she was starting to put together some puzzle pieces: she had bled; this man had come; she no longer bled. He had healed her, somehow; it seemed like that had involved throwing a bucket of seawater over her, but Arialla couldn't complain. That had gotten rid of some of the blood soaking her skin, clothes, and hair, at least, though far too much remained -- she flinched away from the sight.
please don't take my sunshine away
