Otatso Wetlands and oh man, if you ever lose your way

imrathil held his head between his paws, his mind swimming. a roll of nausea stormed through him like a bowling ball. for a minute, his breath came in shaky pants and his mouth felt oddly dry but lined with bile; a stinging sensation smartened in the back of his cheeks.

chusi - chusi fearghal. it meant nothing to his clouded mind. as he looked up, he couldn't hold her gaze for long -- her gaze seemed rent with hurt passion.

"i'm sorry." imrathil sighed, attempting to rise so he was sitting rather than prone. his legs shook and he felt his heart pounding - and the more he tried to recall, to think, to remember, the further and further away his thoughts seemed to go.