Red spills across her lips, down her chin and in her lap. Lyanna lets put a sigh of frustration and makes to rise when her breath is cut off by a sudden, visceral pain. (Her chest is tight, her ribs ache, like someone has broken them with a blunt object.) Her hand automatically goes to her chest, where she can feel her hear beating wildly. A choked cry is caught in her throat, and this time another sort of red starts staining her dress. She doesn't even wonder – there's too much pain for her to - why it is her upper body hurting.
When the pain has spread throughout her entire frame, Lyanna can almost taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth, her nostrils filled with its scent. The curious thing is that before her eyes the sky is blue and the grass is green and the river laps at the lush earth. (Shouldn't she be seeing sands and high suns and too much light?) It strikes her that the eyes she sees through are not hers, because slowly, slowly she is engulfed by water. How can she be when Lyanna feels the mattress underneath her? Something like panic grips her, and from there on whether its drowning or suffocating, it matters little.