[When he reaches her she's still struggling to get up. There's blood running down her chin and from her nose and a few long tendrils of thorns slicked with blood cast off to the side. Two short, one quite long and tipped with broken roots.
She coughs some more, and the blood spatters. But she speaks clearer now.]
Little cat? How do you know my name?
[Then she stiffens. She speaks urgently, glancing all around.]
Is my prince on his way? Have you seen him? He's supposed to—
no subject
She coughs some more, and the blood spatters. But she speaks clearer now.]
Little cat? How do you know my name?
[Then she stiffens. She speaks urgently, glancing all around.]
Is my prince on his way? Have you seen him? He's supposed to—
[And she breaks off coughing.]