Bramblepoint The Parting Glass

Shrike's slumber had been more or less dreamless. There in the den he snoozed, body slowly capming from its shudders and gasps, and he would cough once or twice again as his ailing body demanded more oxygen. It was the need- the need for life, air, breath- that rescued him from his otherwise fateful slumber, and when he groggily lifted his heavy eyelids, and with his jaws agape, did his best to call out but could barely manage a wheeze.

It was then that he perked his ears, only to hear a frantic scrabbling at the den's blocked entrance. He winced when the light split through the cracks and though a shadow still moved beyond that light, digging the dirt away, he had to close his eyes. He lifted his muzzle in an almost noble way to breathe in the fresh air, and lifted himself into a proper laying position as Sassafras tore down the barrier. Once he could pry his gaze open and make out her shape, he cleared his throat. 

"Suck. At promises." he wheezed, before he pushed himself into a seated position and opened his eyes a bit further. Incredibly, he was absolutely sure this was a recovery; there was no doubt about it. "How many lives dogs supposed to get anyway?"