' breathe . '
he’s never felt the need or urge to make use of oxygen but it comes. swift && . rapid , after his lungs like they’re highest on the list of most wanted. && . he TRIES. truly. ragged, wet gasps of air desperately being sucked in through crimson lips. he gets air — he wouldn’t make a sound, otherwise, but he feels no change. nails, sharpened claws, clutch && . claw his throat, chest constricting with unknown TIGHTNESS. he feels dizzy— spinning— his own alice in wonderland falling through the rabbit hole—something cold && . wet touches his knees, then his hands. seeps under his nails && . he vaguely , very distantly recognizes the green beneath him as GRASS. the ground. he’s fallen—
a voice enters his consciousness ( what REMAINS ; his vision is growing spotted && . selective ) . pharron feels the chill of an unfamiliar hand— on his shoulder , NEAR him , && . he can’t help but jerk back, guttural growl echoed in the ferocity of ruby eyes. ❛ GET AWAY. ❜
if he is DYING, let him do it in PEACE. // @frystsnow
