eaglesonofnone: (walk in shadow)
Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad ([personal profile] eaglesonofnone) wrote in [community profile] sixthiterationlogs 2018-10-29 03:01 am (UTC)

"Thank whatever gods may exist."

It's less a statement and more of a mutter as he pushes himself a little farther, up to his hands and knees. It helps with getting the last of the water from his lungs - but then he slowly sinks back down to one hip. He feels breathless. Dizzy. There are golden motes before his eyes, and he's uncertain as to what to do about them except hope he won't lose consciousness. And after a few moments, everything seems to stabilise. Even the gills that had formed below and behind his ears on his neck faded away to make it all the easier for him to breathe.

Still, he feels sore - and that is when he motions to her, a hand extended. "Please. Help an old man off the ground."

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