Like Jonah from the whale

Thinking they might be warmer if they were held close, Sunder tried to draw his legs in. They didn't move even when he put every ounce of strength he had into moving them. The dog was left panting from the effort and the next wave that rushed in filled his mouth with water and sand. He gagged  but was too weak to clear the grit from his airway. It filled the dry crevices of his mouth and stuck to the back of his throat. Sunder attempted to retch again and then, empty of air, drew in involuntary. The end result was that after a violent fit, sand bubbled out of his nose. He writhed on the ground blind and in pain until fighting was too much for him. Somehow more exhausted now, there was nothing he could do besides accept that the pain wasn't going away.

A woman's voice reached his ears but he didn't have the strength to turn towards her. He couldn't make sense of her words and was startled when he felt her touch.  Still blinded by the salt Sunder opened bleary eyes and tried to look at the woman, but couldn't make out more than a vague dark shape. Though he didn't understand what she was saying he understood what she was trying to do. Sunder tried to rise. He wanted to help her help him, and he really, really didn't want to be a burden, but his efforts were in vain. Even after getting his legs under him they refused to support his weight. He would rise partially only to fall suddenly.

He was forced to admit defeat and so sank back onto the sand. "No, no," he croaked weakly, his tongue thick and useless in his mouth. "No, no...I canna..." The salt had cleared somewhat from his eyes and though they were swollen from the seawater Sunder could now see just well enough to make out Iolaire's eyes. He gazed up at her sadly, trying to convey how sorry he was for being unable to help.