@Bagelsworth sorry this took sooo long :-\
Clica sits on a moss covered boulder rubbing her shoulder and stretching her back a bit trying to make them stop aching. She definetly should have stretched before moving on from her previous camping spot which of course thugs just had to show up and make her pull her muscles which did weaken her quiet a bit since she depended on manoverability in her fights. It was a rather quiet morning otherwise a thin veil of mist which was almost gone by now had covered the ground and the birds were chirping.
Those thugs though has given her quiet a thrashing. She had gotten a few bruises on her torso and a few pretry nasty cuts along her arms, that could become infected if left untreated. However she did manage to beat a few of them into their senses and they were probably far away by now licking their wounds.
Clica examines the cuts and brusing before laying back on the rock and letting it's cool surface seep into her aching body while swearing at Colak for getting her into this mess in the first place out loud. The dragon spirit reponds with just a huff and a quick pang of pain in her head as usual when she curses her sort of tormentor.