All she knew was pain and confusion. Her brain was so full of fog she couldn't string two thoughts together no matter how she tried. Her body wracked with pain that overloaded all else. She was unaware of anything other than the pain. She knew nothing, she rememberd nothing, she felt nothing. She was nothing.<br/><br/>Outside her world of pain, the bandits had slung her across the back of their pack horse. She was limply draped over a large bag of supplies, then tied in place to keep her from falling. The bandits rode hard, pushing their steeds to the highest speeds they could manage over the local terrain of light woods and grasslands. A couple more times, she was taken with more seizures, but each time was weaker than the last. The final one went completely unnoticed as she was too weak to move much at all, and the movement of the horse concealed it. Her breathing became so shallow, with her abdomen struck repeatedly by the baggage she was tied to, that her lips began to turn blue. She wasn't getting enough oxygen. When they finally stopped for lunch a few hours later, to let the horses breathe, and drink, the leader of the group went to check on her, and became alarmed at what he found.<br/><br/>"Someone find me some of that root! The one he said to use in emergencies!"<br/><br/>"Sir, there's no time-"<br/><br/>"NOW!!"