The Heartwood Take the oxygen straight out of my own chest.

It was over even faster than it had begun. The full brunt of the pale stranger's effort hit him, forcing him off of his feet as if the mountain of a man embodied the force of an avalanche, and try as Revui might he could not compensate fast enough. He was too busy feeling the emotional weight of his prior loss; the fear that he would be swept away and deposited in the earth, left to rot there by yet another enemy. He felt the weight of the rival warrior press down upon him and as that pressure hit his throat, he tried to roar and to fight them off; however, their positioning was superior. Light turned to haze around him; he saw spots, his snarling choked back, and while he wheezed and fought to breathe Revui could do nothing — he was dizzy, like someone held him in a headlock — and the boy would have passed right out had his opponent not grappled with his shoulder in such a violent manner. Something popped; maybe it was his imagination, or maybe he was hearing the capillaries in his eyes pop at the corners as a by-product of his struggle... Regardless, Revui passed out in to the snow thereafter, the fever of battle leaving him except where his fresh wounds burned and bled.