Dahozhoni Meadow does my breath smell?

Her question softened his muscles some, though the panic continued to flare through him. It was nice, having someone worrying over him. But he didn’t want that! He didn’t want anything to do with this sort of thing. Cambria needed to get out, get away. But her presence rooted him to the spot, as if her body still locked his in place.

I’m not, he tried again, only for his voice to fail him once more. I can’t, he squeaked out between rapid, shallow breaths. Concentrating on her question, he forced out, I need—space.

Gods, he felt horrid as soon as the word left his mouth. But it was true. As much as he yearned for her touch, he needed some distance. Ideally, he should run far, far, far away and never look back. But more realistically, Cambria could use a moment to recover from this panic attack and collect his thoughts before they completely tore him apart.

Just, he said, unlocking his limbs just enough to take a wobbly step, then another. I need a minute. He halted, thinking that over, and amended, Give me… half an hour, and continued to shuffle across the dry meadow.

He paused among a patch of succulents and slowly closed his eyes with a sigh. The Dragonling tried to focus on breathing in through his mouth and out through his nose to steady his racing heart. He knew he had a lot to think about, though for the next few minutes, Cambria did his best to clear his mind.