The sickness stole away the clarity of will, placing her in that kind of stupor only the ill achieved - the kind that turned everything sordid and murky, timeless and meaningless. This kind of illness should have had her resting within her very own chambers, but here she was instead. She was a stubborn girl. Her eyes drifted in and out of focus, head turned downwards towards her own reflection by the edge of the lake, but unseeing of the shrouded mess she was. What normally clever glinting eyes she possessed were dull and dun, and it was just as well that those that came upon her might consider her unconscious.

It was in that strange, drained thrall to the gentle lapping of the water that a voice cut through, soft in volume and completely imaginary, and her reply to it was a low chuckle, so weak as barely deserving the name of a laugh. "I am hell," she said, with a slow sort of deliberation that meant what she said, and meant nothing at all.

The effort of speaking brought several details through the fog: dry lips, and an ill-abused throat which had seen more tossed up remains of food than words these past few days. The pain drew clearer, and the fact that her head wavered and swayed over the water, hanging dangerously low over it as if tempted to simply sleep beneath its quiet kiss. With a will, she looked up towards the twilight sky, the world wavering for her efforts. It was only a day after the meeting, the very meeting where so many had stood against their King and regime. Even in her fevered haze she had stuck by her Crow King, stuck by her friends.

"Ah....sweet corpse; what a sorry master you have." She said to herself, closing her eyes and lowering her head, painfully reminded of the dull throb behind her eyes. "To deny death so easily for you, and succumb to its gates myself from the folly of pride." How poetic it seemed. "How pathetic."

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@zuno please excuse Lav's delirious mumblings.
speech color!