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.
She gives him 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.
But is he going to make sounds.
She coughs at him.
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.
He doesn't react to that either.