In Over His Head

In an instant, Gonyaul’s mind was multitasking, as he continued to try and visually gain his bearings. His heart was racing so fast from the horrible anticipation of being hunted. The fact that any moment might be his last was driving his anxiety northward. In addition, he almost felt it was better to be in the presence of the enemy than his imagination making up where they might be. Then again, when he was in front of the enemy he felt his courage fail. If it wasn’t for his extensive training, he was certain he would be overwhelmed from taking action.

It wasn’t all panic and fear. He knew mindfulness and breathing techniques that were helping prevent him from curling up into a fetal position. It wasn’t making him come across as any hero though. Instead, he had been simply running away and getting his butt kicked in the process. How did all his friends make this true combat look so easy? Did they feel fear like he was? Were his attackers having a good laugh at his show of combative ineptitude? Why did they even keep him around? His ideas and advice regarding violence and revenge were rarely listened to or acted upon, and when things went bad (and they always seemed to) he was always stuck being the damsel in distress and creating a burden for the others to make up the slack.

~ouch!~ the reality of his physical situation kept his thoughts from running off. He had never felt this much pain before in his life, and that was saying something because he had been swarmed by a bee colony before. He had never experienced injuries to this degree or type. When he glanced down at himself, he looked unrecognizable.

He realized he was being corralled further into the building. It was a building that had multiple fires in it now. Was the point just to keep him inside until the structure caved in on itself and buried him; deferring the risk of confrontation. More and more of it was becoming compromised and falling apart. The air was turning foul and smoky, making it harder to breathe.

This was one reason he had been deciding to continue running like a beast on all fours, to keep lower than the rising smoke level; for the benefit of his breathing and his eyes. The other reason was because he was fast, it helped having four limbs teaming together when one of them was injured, and because he thought it would create an unusual target for those in pursuit which could cause them a slight hiccup in their attempts.

Was Voah going to be alright? Would he see her again? Why had she not been able to execute their escape plan and be with him? He could only deduce that her night was as terrible a situation as his own, if not worse. The loudest question, on her behalf, though was ~where was she?~

Gonyaul gagged and nearly threw up on the blood dripping across his open mouth. He couldn’t breathe through his nose anymore, the tight bandage made it too difficult to use his nostrils for this level of physical exertion. So he had to settle for the sanguine taste pooling around his taste buds, as he sucked in air through the blood soaked wrapping via his mouth.

He had one last thought before his very brief rest would be over and he needed to focus singularly again. ~oh no, I left my robe back in the kitchen.~