Treading Water

He hears her voice call from the bottom of the stairs. Normally, he would have done something, called back, but his current condition forces him to stay silent. His ribs ache, a nearly searing pain that shrivels up his lungs and make it far too hard to breathe. Instead, he focuses on those breaths. In and out, in and out, don't die, don't suffocate. Stars swirl before him, lighting up the dim light of the treehouse where the afternoon sun filters in from outside. He nearly passes out from lack of oxygen when he hears her paws against the wood of the treehouse floor.

Blinking slowly, Gilgamesh scuffs his chin across the floor to look at where Jael sits beside him asking if he wants lunch or something to drink. "Water," he rasps, hardly able to swallow, let alone speak. Thanking Abraxas above for the luck of having Jael at his side, Gilgamesh closes his eyes once more. Waiting for Jael to return with anything to help the pain go away, he rests.

The Raid King, Gilgamesh