On the bank, Wolfgang collapses on his side, coughing up water that is -- well, it's water. Transparent. Normal. Not the same colour the river was a while ago.
The colour it isn't, anymore, now that they're out of it, with nothing to show for that display but a murder of crows that stay just long enough to scold the both of them before taking wing. He doesn't hear what she has to say, no.
His face is pale and he's shaking, but he's fine, he's not in danger of anything but discomfort. His lungs are burning, as are his sinuses. Let's not do that again, he tries to say, but it mostly comes out as hurk as he hits his chest a few more times to try to settle it.
He did count on getting wet today, at least.
When he's finally breathing normally, he rasps, "Haunted." What is in the water is at least not a demon or some other kind of entity bound to the water with malevolent intent -- just a ghost. Someone who is lost.
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The colour it isn't, anymore, now that they're out of it, with nothing to show for that display but a murder of crows that stay just long enough to scold the both of them before taking wing. He doesn't hear what she has to say, no.
His face is pale and he's shaking, but he's fine, he's not in danger of anything but discomfort. His lungs are burning, as are his sinuses. Let's not do that again, he tries to say, but it mostly comes out as hurk as he hits his chest a few more times to try to settle it.
He did count on getting wet today, at least.
When he's finally breathing normally, he rasps, "Haunted." What is in the water is at least not a demon or some other kind of entity bound to the water with malevolent intent -- just a ghost. Someone who is lost.