Stavanger Bay Knight Unending

There was a pool of blood at his feet. It was his own, hacked up from his lungs in a coughing fit. The knight panted, his breath raspy from the wounds inside him. The rib was still irritating the organ inside, and he wasn't sure if it was healing properly either. He would have to ask the Lady Thistle Cloud to see if it was in place later. For now, he needed to catch his breath....

IN...OUT...IN...OUT...IN.........OUT.....

Mordred gasped for breath, his panting slowing as his body relaxed. The storm gray wolf licked his lips with distaste, tasting bloodied spittle on his lips. He was fine now. The Dread Knight stretched, releasing the tension in his body. He had endured worst than this. It wasn't even that bad. He had once been left in a battlefield, trapped under dead, rotting bodies, the rot nearly giving him gangrene. He had been bitten by a venomous snake before. He was fine.