Fairspell Meadow Keep me running, running scared

@Buniq

Staggering steps pull the red male forward, as if each takes the entirety of strength he has left. Before him, a meadow of vast colors, many of which he cannot appreciate. His paws sore, bleeding from running continually. Breaks minimal, the more distance he puts between the shattered remains of his home, the better. Jaws parted with tongue out, he desperately heaves for air. Alas, vision spins, and he attempts to catch himself. Limps feeling weak—useless—underneath his weight. Eventually, they refuse to work any longer, and he collapses in a heap.