[bigwig.]

This is my charrie Goldenflare, from my Warriors/Hunger Games story. As you may notice, she has a wound over her eye. (A wound I worked very hard on coloring!) This is from a scene where she was injured and abandoned. Here, I'll post part of it. It's told from the P.O.V. of my main character who still has no name.:
When I wake up, the Careers are gone. They didn't see me, and, more importantly, they didn't kill me in my sleep. I feel a flood of relief until I see a limp golden form still lying in their campsite. My good feelings vanish instantly. I just grip the tree limb, because if I don't, I'll probably fall off. I stare blankly at Goldenflare, who lies still and abandoned. But there was no cannon. Was there? No, I would've heard it and woken up. But...Goldenflare's dead. Reality dawns on me and brings about a sickening thought: Goldenflare isn't dead. But she's probably close! Yes, that's it. I'll hear and cannon sound in a minute or two, when I'm as far away as possible.
I'm just about to jump down and leave when Goldenflare gets up. My heart sinks and I feel fear rise in my throat. Goldenflare looks around and gives a little yowl of frustration. I flinch when she turns my direction-For while one side of her face is normal, the other side looks like one big, swollen, infected wound. There are probably twenty cameras focused on me right now. No, scratch that-There are definitely twenty cameras trained on me right now. Everybody's waiting to see what I'll do next.
I know what I won't do next-Leave Goldenflare there. I don't like her, but I can't wish that kind of torture upon any cat. Not even one who tried to kill me. I slink down the tree trunk and weave my way through the bushes. I make sure to make a little noise so she knows I'm there beforehand. She glares at me. I can't bear to meet her gaze. Not right now. "What do you want, 7?" she snarls, her tail twitching. "I want to help you." I meow. My current mental state won't allow for anything but blunt truth. "Why?" She spits back. I am silent for a moment. "No cat deserves to die that way." I meow. "Slowly, infected, abandoned." Goldenflare narrows her eyes. Or at least one of them. "Look," I begin. "You can leave as soon as you're well enough. Then you can go back to hunting me." A growl rumbles from Goldenflare. "Fine!" She yowls. I dare to look directly at her. A bitter smell fills my nose-The tang of blood mixed with a sickly note that I know is the smell of infection.
The wound isn't bleeding anymore, but the Careers clearly did a great job of 'healing' it. I'm not a Medicine Cat, but even I can tell that it needed more attention. Goldenflare snorts at me and lies back down. "I don't see why you'd want to heal something you did to me in the first place." She mutters. I feel a rush of guilt. "I had no idea they were going to leave you to die." I mew softly. Goldenflare gives me a quick once-over with her good eye. "You're a mystery, you know?" She meows with a little less hostility than before. I slide my pack off of my neck and open it. I still have the herbs Stormstep gave me, and his little notes about what they do. I rifle through it until I find horsetail-For infections. I pull out a few nettle leaves to help the swelling and mix them into the poultice.
I don't want to put it on Goldenflare's face. The wound is bright red and heat radiates off of it, but I try to keep my paw steady as I dab the chewed-up leaves on it. Goldenflare only twitches a little bit.