Sacora had been so engrossed with the removal of the arrow that she had not noticed the knight's tightened grasp of her shoulder until it loosened. "Let's do this," his voice affirmed to her in response to her question about poking a finger into the wound. It sounded shaky but firm. So he could feel pain. This was not making it any easier for Sacora.
The young mage closed her eyes and began to place her fingers near the wound. Then, with much trepidation, she began to reach her left index finger through the arrow wound...
If it hadn't been for the cold, deathly hand the knight had placed on Sacora's shoulder, she might have fainted right on the spot. His touch was something of a support, something that kept her from swaying along with her fright. For she was shivering as her finger dug through the wound, touching cold, dead meat as she wound her way down to where the arrowhead was. She could feel it, yes, and from there began to pry and scrape in the gentlest way she could at the point, which appeared to be stuck in some deep flesh. At the same time, she was trying not to imagine the great pain the knight must be suffering, for if she did so then she could readily imagine what it felt like on her.
After five minutes or so of this sort of prying, Sacora took her other hand to pull at the arrow shaft. It inched out some more. Feeling progress, she only pushed the arrowhead with her finger one last time before her other hand successfully yanked the arrow out. The momentum sent her stumbling backwards, also jerking her finger out of the dead man's chest at the same time. When she composed herself, she looked at the bloody, cadaverous-smelling finger on her left hand, and the released arrow in her right.
Something about the sight, though it meant the job was done, just didn't soothe her. Her fingers suddenly weakened, causing her to drop the arrow, and she sank down onto her knees. Her whole body trembled and shivered as if a chill wind was blowing through her, and moments later, she doubled over as she vomited up the last remains of her dinner on some fallen leaves. When she was done, she shakily sat back up, gurgled some water from her waterskin, spit it out, and took out her handkerchief to wipe at her mouth. She paused for a moment, then took out her waterskin again to run some of it over the finger that she had poked into the dead flesh.
"I apologize," she said weakly to the headless knight. "It...it wasn't an easy thing for me to do...or look at."