"Cough, cough cough, heave, vomit!"
Bi Fang leaned over the side of the boat to throw up, much like the morning after a night of heavy drinking.
His stomach churned wildly, his head throbbed with pain, and his muscles and bones cried out in agony, trembling uncontrollably at the slightest exertion.
No matter what he did, he could not alleviate the sensation of swelling. It felt like a python tightening around his body, squeezing his blood vessels shut with no liquid passage, turning his flesh rigid, purple, gangrenous, and on the verge of complete failure.
Another wave struck, and the Viking took on some seawater.
The canoe rocked violently, and Bi Fang's chin slammed into the deck, scraping off some skin.
Crack!
One of the last two connecting logs broke, and half of it floated on the sea, quickly washing away to who knows where.
Bi Fang grabbed hold of the remaining half, yanked it down, and pushed it aside.
