The Sentinels another day, another door

She heard what had become almost a norm for him most days, and he stood patiently while she listened, suddenly self-consciously aware of the way each breath caught in his chest.  He tried to remember when the issues had started.  Noticably, likely around a month ago.  "A few weeks to a month," he said slowly, his ears turning back uncomfortably.  "It eases usually through the day, and really only bothers me when I hunt."  He tried to make light, still unwilling to accept the fear that this wasn't just a simple bug he'd picked up.  It had to go away eventually.  They always did.