There you were, bleeding out slowly on that mountain. A stray group of wolves had managed to hunt you down from the base of the mountain, all the way through your climb unnoticed. Finally, though, they had attacked you. Mount Targon was an unforgiving place, where the mountain's peak pierced the clouds like a spear, where the tip of that mountain reached high enough to touch the stars themselves.

Blood continued to dribble down the side of your abdomen, snow falling gently only to be stained by the crimson red. Your vision blurred, about to go dark...

Until suddenly, a tall effeminate figure stood over you, kneeling down and placing her hands upon your wounds to mend them. Her eyes glimmered golden yellow, her skin, lilac purple... and a horn protruding from her forehead. Soraka had found you just in time.

She winced as the pain of utilizing her magic sent electric jolts through her body, the untamed power of her celestial magic causing harm on this frail mortal form. She didn't mind it, though. Her hands shimmered with a glittering, green light as she continued to work at your wounds.

"Please, little one. Do not close your eyes. I am here to help." Soraka murmured to you softly, her brow furrowed in focus as she tried to keep you alive.