Ouroboros Spine surman suuhun

error. wintersbane.exe has stopped working. files damaged in crash. factory reset imminent.

the tundrian stirs, a deep rise and fall of his flanks in a pained and ragged breath. his vision wavers and his hearing fades in and out — so quiet and so loud it's almost painful. 'can you —' and his hearing fades out as the pain intensifies. there's someone else — someone beside the corpse beneath him — but he's not sure whether she, a blur of moonbeam fur, is real or not. he knows the pain is real. he knows because he feels it from his neck more than anywhere else. his eyes flutter open and then closed. though the pale woman certainly looks like a celestial being from above ...this is far too painful to be death.

and yet ...despite how he fights to survive he yearns for death. his mind is hazy. confused. where am i? who am i? what happened? all questions he would ask ...later. the tundrian tries to lift his head, achieving a small lift of his chin and tries to talk but all that comes out is an incoherent rasping, rumbling noise as the pain tries and succeeds in pulling him back to unconsciousness once more.