It took what felt an awful lot like forever for Draven to finally start regaining control of himself, and even then any progress he made was fought for tooth and nail. It was hard enough that he didn't feel like he was calming down so much as he was dragging himself through cold, heavy, slimy muck with no way of knowing how far he still was from solid ground. He was aware of Raela and Calanthe there with him and sort of understood that they were both saying stuff that was probably supposed to make him feel a little less terrible, but as long as he was busy trying to stop crying so much, there was no way he was ever going to hear a word they said. He was limp with exhaustion by the time his sobs finally started turning into quiet, randomly spaced snuffles. If he had been standing up, he knew he would probably have fallen over by now. His throat hurt from crying; his face felt sticky with the tears drying on his fur. His lungs felt wobbly like the rest of him, making breathing slowly and calmly too much of a challenge. Gasping was the only way for them to drag air back into him, and every gasp made the muscles in his back and chest hurt all over again. It would take too much to move yet, and he was warm and felt shielded from the world as long as he stayed still. It was easier to just relax and try to breathe. It was easier to stop thinking and stare off across the shelter at nothing in particular. It took longer than it had for him to stop crying before something like strength started coming back to the boy's limbs - like strength, but not, because it wasn't so much that his body had recovered as it was that he was laying awkwardly and his legs were cramped and sore. It was more necessary effort that made him finally shift around a bit until blood started flowing back to his toes again and the stiffness in his muscles began to fade. He thought for a moment that maybe he should say something to either Raela or Calanthe - or maybe to them both. But he didn't know exactly what he should say, and trying to think of why he needed to say anything in order to get some inspiration was too much work still. It also wasn't at all worth another breakdown just to figure out what to say, so just for now anyway, he said nothing. He desperately wanted to sleep, but his hungry stomach was still gnawing on itself and the thunder was still roaring outside. He figured he should try to eat, then, while he was thinking about it. His half-eaten rabbit was just a few inches away from his nose... but that was really, really far away. He didn't know if he could stretch that far right now, so he lay there still, eyes locked disinterestedly on the carcass. He'd get to it once he stopped feeling quite so much like a boneless pile of jelly. |
![[Image: draven-greypixel01.gif]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LOXaVKL_0Ms/VhKR3SJwzHI/AAAAAAAAPHY/ig8NnIC10Tw/s0-Ic42/draven-greypixel01.gif)