Bella had never been an internal processor; most of her thoughts were spoken out loud, and for everyone else around her to hear. That trait was perhaps the one that usually got her in the most trouble, but at this moment it was also the one she wished she could conjure. She sat beside Tilda, her mouth open as if she was about to speak... but no words seemed to be coming out. She'd never had a problem speaking before (all she ever did is speak, according to some people), but she either couldn't figure out how to phrase it or she couldn't comprehend was actually had happened.

She resigned to her silence after a moment, bearing a frown as she stared at Tilda before taking a sip of whatever her friend had placed in the mug in front of her — either a really nasty tea or a potion, she figured.

When she experimentally shifted on the bed, testing for any signs of pain - well, sharp pains. Her entire body was so sore that pinpointing a certain area of pain — apart from her leg, which Tilda had just tended to — was difficult. It didn't help that she couldn't see many of her injuries, with her sleeves covering up her arms and chest and everything, really.

"I'm not sure," she responded quietly, unsure of which question she was truly answering.