Something within Morne flared at that comment, but it was smothered cruelly and quickly by the unending maelstrom of voices.
The voice, the invisible speaker, paused.
How Morne could tell such a thing when he couldn't even spare enough brainpower to breathe, it was impossible to tell. But he knew.
And the attention of this being sent a thrill of terror up his spine thousands of orders of magnitudes higher than the voices ever could produce.
That thing within Morne flared up again, struggling to light with the fierce winds of the whispers like a flickering candle in a hurricane.
But by some miracle, or perhaps some curse, it didn't go out.
"Hrk."
Morne let out a grunt, the first action he had taken since he had lost his ability to breathe.
"Hrk. Hrk. HRK!"
Ounce by ounce, he forced air out of his full lungs, then became blue in the face as he tried to suck some back in, only to find none there.
He was choking.
