Dianne cradled Sarah in her arms, her living room transformed into a scene of desperate urgency. Blood oozed from Sarah's wounds, pooling on the floor and staining Dianne's hands. The metallic tang of it filled the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of life.
"Hang on, Sarah," Dianne whispered, her voice trembling. She pressed her hand against a particularly deep gash on Sarah's side, trying to stem the flow of blood. "I'm here. I'm going to help you."
Sarah's eyes fluttered open, pain etched in every line of her face. "Dianne…" she managed, her voice a mere whisper. "It hurts… so much."
"I know, I know," Dianne murmured, tears blurring her vision. She summoned her healing magic, feeling the familiar warmth gather in her palms. But as she directed it into Sarah's broken body, the warmth flickered and faded, the magic slipping through her fingers like water.
