The very thing that I love's killing me and I can't conquer it

Her breaths were short and constricted. Her sight was blackened at the edges, like burning paper. She could see the loa in their infinite whirling, spectral forms, though this was only an illusion. Most of what she saw was steeped in hallucination, and understanding was like grasping at the stars. She could make it out, but she could not reach it.

There was one persistent reality, however, that Jinx was able to cling to: she was a leader, or had been a leader. This forest, although she remember nothing about it and none of the wolves who lived in it, had belonged to her. She knew this because the loa were cackling about it in the static-filled emptiness of her head. Their jeers made her flick back her ears and stare more intently at the water, her entire body jerking every once in a while.

It jerked most violently when a wolf came into view, as the Alpha attempted to gain her feet and failed. Coughing and hacking, her mad eyes sought the other as it spewed out nonsense at her. Growling and sending flecks of foam flying everywhere, the rabid beast panted out a single word: “M... M... Miiiiine...”

As far as what she was, her forward lurch and subsequent collapse on the riverbank could have answered the question. She was broken. She was ill. She was practically a corpse. She was Death.