Cherion gasped, sitting up abruptly on the mattress as his chest heaved in violent, erratic jerks.
Air tore into his lungs like ice, sharp and burning against his windpipe. Tears poured uncontrollably down his cheeks, blinding his vision in the soft orange glow of the dying hearth. His hands flew instantly to his neck, his trembling fingers frantically pressing into his throat, tracing his collarbone, clutching his own skin as if checking whether his head was still physically attached to his shoulders. He was shaking so violently that his teeth rattled behind his pale, parted lips, every breath shuddering through his ribcage like a dying gasp.
Breathe, Cherion screamed internally, trying to pull his frantic thoughts back into his chest. Breathe, damn it! You're alive. Look around you, you're alive!
"Hey... hey, look at me. Look at me, Cherion."
Strong, warm hands immediately clasped around his shuddering shoulders, anchoring him before he could spiral completely into the dark.
