Ankyra Sound a shadow of the past

there is a roar in his ears; partially the sea at his back, licking at back paws and ankles, and partially something else. something other, perhaps. his awareness is slow coming at first and then a rush. isengard takes a pained gasp of breath and then coughs up saltwater and seasludge, groggily aware of the young woman backing away from him.

w-wait ...— he croaks out the plea, mustering little more than a rasping whisper, head rising; thick seaweed sliding off his head and in a wet splat before him. this burst of strength is short lived before the weight of his own head is too heavy and it drops down so that his chin rested against the slimy seaweed pile there.