She whimpered a little as he moved her, but made no other reaction. Cithien was lost in her own nightmare, one of pain, endless fighting, and endless death. When she finally opened her eyes again it was with a sharp, panicked gasp. She tried to sit up, but immediately regretted it and lay back down.
The woman muttered a few things to herself in her native tongue. It was almost as though she were trying to force herself to her feet through sheer will, but she could not get her body to cooperate again. Her skin had taken on a sickly pallor from the amount of blood she had lost, and the wound was still sticky with freshly clotted blood that was nearly black in color.
It took her several minutes to realize that she was not alone. She called out in her language, assuming it was one of her people, but when there was no response she forced herself up again. Her dark eyes met his and narrowed immediately. Cithien growled at him and started searching for her dagger. At least until she realized that he had not killed her.
She paused in her movements and stared at him in disbelief. Why had he not killed her? Well, that's what questions were for. So she asked, "You had an opportunity to kill me...why didn't you?" Suddenly she looked around, wondering if her people were close by. It was not the case though. Cithien cursed under her breath and wished that she knew what the status of the battle was.