In terms of peril, there is no greater partner than kin, than steed.
Wisdoms of the Koh'rakh
NARA
Jhago (3)
I collapsed onto the jagged outcrop, my knees scraping against the stone, the rough edges biting into my skin. Each gasp for air was like swallowing dry ash, the wind carrying nothing but dust and heat that clawed at my throat. Every breath burned, raw and jagged, as if I were inhaling shards of glass. My mouth, parched and cracked, held only the bitter tang of copper and dirt. It had been days since I had tasted anything but the sour remnants of bile, my tongue thick and useless in my mouth, the memory of water nothing more than a cruel phantom. My stomach had long since stopped growling, reduced now to an empty, twisting ache, a hollow pit gnawing at my insides.
