Otatso Wetlands get up from there

"nnnn - oo."
the syllable barely slipped beyond the lacerations to his throat and the burn of the waterlogged back of it. 
he took inventory of himself. he was no longer in the water and was wrapped in something inexplicable. his good eye roved for his savior — or the one waiting to kill him.
colt focused on his breathing and how the very act of it sent agony spearing through him as his ribcage swelled to take the air. broken; wouldn't be the first time.
everything was fucked.