Moon Dust.
Rinne landed on a rough and uneven terrain, terrified, feeling as if her body was no longer her own. She was eerily light, as if she had lost 50 kilograms.
She turned her head, but everything around her was blurry. The world spun, and the air smelled poor, making her want to crouch and retch as if she had been stuffed into a high-speed, low-pressure blender.
A roar echoed nearby.
Turning, she saw a monster about the size of a buffalo staring at her. In fact, it did bear a resemblance to a buffalo, or rather, a hybrid of buffalo and dragon. Her vision was too poor to tell for certain, her mind too foggy. Wobbly, she instinctively stepped back, only to sit down on the lunar soil, stirring up clouds of fine dust.
"Her constitution is too weak,"
"Teleportation sickness."
