There is a person, lying on the burning sand, not even particularly arranging himself for less sand contact, eyes closed against the light, whimpering a little involuntarily now and again. He wasn't there the last time she checked.
When he's awake she tries new sound combinations on him and sees if she can get new responses. Sometimes she gets up to four sound-chunks in a row, but she can't get very far on that systematically and the next time he sleeps she always has new words to start over with. Occasionally she plays her flute.
Eventually even the words that usually get answers stop doing so reliably; when he tries to answer sometimes he starts coughing instead and he talks less for a while whenever that happens.
Ohhh. His throat's going to stop working right, and then he'll make fewer sounds. If she can't fix it then she won't get any more sounds.
She flies away. (While he's awake - he's kind of more interesting when he's asleep, and she doesn't want to miss any of that.) She comes back with a little bone bowl made from a skull and a little bone knife. She sits down under the tarp. She cuts her wrist with the knife, winces, and lets her blood flow into the bowl.
He takes it and sits up a little. He tastes the blood. He puts the bowl down without drinking much and flops down again.
Aww.
She kind of wants to further investigate whether this has solved the problem sufficiently, but she's not very good at thinking right now.
After a while she faints, still bleeding.