Lake Rodney death and burial were locked up in my chest [m - gore]

Feel free to PP him in any way, he's super broken. Legs shattered (one totally, probably with bone sticking out), wounds from the fight on his face/throat/shoulders, bruises and road rash all over, chunks of rock embedded in his body, etc.

It hurt. All his wounds were throbbing with a constant burn, and had likely garnered some kind of infection while he had been laying around at the base of the Moonspear; or maybe from his time in the forest. The beast breathed raggedly through lungs that had not been punctured, but with ribs that creaked and groaned like the framework of a rotten old house. Every breath tasted like copper - like blood - and all he could do was focus on the pain in his everything, and it kept him cognizant for the time being.

Then, he felt a pinch. It was sharp for an instant, but the rest of his body was in such a state of pain and contorted bits and pieces that he didn't linger long on the sensation. He moved with a lurch, and the beast loosed a strangled rumble as he was dropped closer to the water - his eyes rolled in his head, and he felt the cool reprieve of the lake as it soaked through his pelt. Around him eddied streaks of red and bits of debris in the manner of watercolor pigment, bleeding out all around him. He would never be pure - his body was ruined, perhaps forever, his pelt a mess, his soul the most tarnished if it still (or ever) existed - and the beast moaned uselessly as his face slid against the wet stones of the lake's bank.