Witch's Marsh there was a man whom sorrow named his friend

He tries to focus on breathing, grateful when the other wolf steps back. His chest feels constricted and his head feels strange, almost inflated, as if it might break free of his body and float away any moment. The woman's words come to him through a fog. This time, at least, it makes sense — and he's grateful for that, too. He swallows with some effort, wincing at the way his dry throat contracts painfully and sticks to itself. Yeah, He croaks, coughing once. I just need — a second.
Do you — He breaks off and swallows again, shifting slowly to a more upright position. I don't... really remember what happened. A frown tugs at his features, confusion written into his expression, and he looks away for a moment. Then he seems to remember something, eyes lighting up for a moment and then quickly darkening with anxiety as he looks back to the woman. Is Korei alright?