Coincidental?
Esme's groan came out through cracked lips and a dry throat, making her voice sound more like a gargle. Her head pounded like a hammer slamming into her skull, and her nose and eyes stung, but it didn't compare to the pain in her spinal cord and chest. She was incapacitated. Esme had a high pain threshold, but it had been a while since she had been in such agony that it was difficult to breathe.
The she-wolf tried to move, to feel with her fingers the wound on her back, to check on how bad it was for it to still be pulsing white-hot heat and causing her stomach to churn at each inhalation of breath, but she couldn't. Her muscles kept tugging and stretching painfully in her lower back to each movement, and the ache in her shoulders made her more aware of the burning sensation around her wrists. With all the effort she could muster, Esme forced her heavy lids open, struggling to keep them open in the dim room.