Barrow Fields D.A.R.E

He had attempted to leave, yet the swirling shades of gold seemed to follow. He was struggling to comprehend such a thing, his delirium only worsening as a rush of heat washed over him accompanied by the need to vomit.

Legs shaking and knees heavy he dropped, head leaning forward to retch. He wasn't sure as to what, but he was desperate to get something up. Anything to stop this; it had started out fine but he was only feeling worse and worse as time went on.

Lifting his paw he began to scratch at the wounds he believed to have been treated, unable to tolerate the sting any longer.