Daemon rose his head, paws overlapped and hind legs bent in a casual sitting position. He uncurled slowly, fatigue still weighing down on him since that race with his pack-mate. It didn't bother him that much at first, but gradually it started to take toll, realizing how much energy he burned off during that sprint. Plus it was somewhat long distanced. That didn't help. He decided to stand up and padded over to a river close by. The water was crystal clear and seem to sparkle upon the light. Sometimes, he would like to rest here, away from his pack-mates, rules, mostly everything. A place to clear his mind and spirituality. A cleansing effect, like renewed and refreshed. "Perhaps I'm being a bit rash, but rules are rules and I must make sure I obey them...and for everyone else to follow too." Another pang in his chest prodded him. He collapsed on the ground, panting heavily. "Why....is...this...happening.......to..." His throat felt congested and even panting fast seemed to make it worse. As much he didn't want others to know about his sacred sanctuary, he needed extreme medical attention. He ignored the signs, thought they could fade away, but it didn't. It gradually got worse, just like his flashbacks. They were coexisting each other; could it be a sign? He winced, nostrils flaring with forced air. He inhaled deeply, as much as his lungs forced him to and gave a long and mournful howl. He paused and realized his mistake.
Wrong howl.
His vision grew foggy, his surroundings blending with each other. He could hardly move his head to turn and look at the bushes. He gave slow blinks as his breathing grew slow and soft.
(I know, this is a bit dramatic but I wanted to spice things up...)
