The Sentinels I'm a little turned around

After her outburst, Doe sank deeper and deeper into the other plane which she sometimes occupied. The other three wolves slowly faded to nothing; she could still see them, but they became part of a landscape that she could not touch.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. She watched with detatched interest as pine needles swirled from the canopy above, as dragonflies who meant to dart buzzed past almost lazily despite their ambition, and as the three wolves moved almost in sync, desplaying the sort of emotion that would frighten her on most days, but that could not touch her here.

Doe blinked up at them from her place on the ground, watching with childlike wonder as they conversed. Their voices seemed far away, like they were calling to her while she was under the waves instead of standing right next to them. All she could hear was her heartbeat, and a strange, shrill ringing that grew louder and louder with each passing second. A grey veil was descending over her eyes, but she kept them wide open as she tried to stall the wave of lethargy that suddenly gripped her. Deep breaths lead her to the conclusion:

I know this feeling. I'm going to pass out.

That would be bad, though. Doe increased her efforts, breathing as deeply and as evenly as she could when it was so hard to tell if she was breathing at all. But, gradually, her efforts paid off. The ringing receeded just in time for her to hear the tail-end of Deirdre's words. She craned her head to look imploringly at the other girl, nearly losing her balance as she did so.

"See... Szymon?" she asked hopefully, tongue feeling too-large and too-heavy in her mouth.