Lost Creek Hollow rockabye

Gagging and sputtering, Pippin only felt relief when his steadfast father swept forward, nudging at the boy’s flank and offering comfort. Of course, it did not stop the flutter of panic at his chest as his throat burned raw – and his own panic kept his airways limited.
 
His eyes glazed over for a second, and then with one obnoxious gag, the boy arched his neck and wretched out a crumpled and soaked yellow butterfly. Of course, it no longer moved, and Pippin, his eyes watering, looked to Moredcai with as much dramatics as possible. “Hurt,” he whimpered, before his stomach rolled, and he promptly vomited up his breakfast.