It's okay; I'll wait until it's easier to walk. I can take myself.

[Because having someone see her in the mess of a state she's in right now wouldn't do much good; she feels like crawling into the brush and laying there until something clicks, fixes itself. There's the sound of grass shuffling under her hands as she attempts to raise to her knees properly.

Breathe.

...

Which way is the clinic?

What is the clinic, again??

She rubs her temple, wincing.]

If you... um.... could tell me what the clinic looks like...