The werewolf curls in tighter on himself, for all the good it does him. The sand is slicing into his back and sides, laying his flesh open, scouring him down to the bone, and he isn't healing it up fast enough to do any good.
He's still holding his breath, but with the amount of damage being done he's losing his ability to think straight, to remember just why he's holding his breath and he exhales. The wind sweeps away the air and quite suddenly he can't draw a breath. He starts choking on his own throat, collapsing to the ground, head no longer protected. The sands slice into his muzzle and Le Chiffre is forgotten. All he knows is that he needs to eat something RIGHT NOW.
But it's a bit late for that. The pain, the damage, the sudden over-whelming hunger, the lack of air, everything adds up and the black werewolf passes out.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-07-29 08:34 pm (UTC)He's still holding his breath, but with the amount of damage being done he's losing his ability to think straight, to remember just why he's holding his breath and he exhales. The wind sweeps away the air and quite suddenly he can't draw a breath. He starts choking on his own throat, collapsing to the ground, head no longer protected. The sands slice into his muzzle and Le Chiffre is forgotten. All he knows is that he needs to eat something RIGHT NOW.
But it's a bit late for that. The pain, the damage, the sudden over-whelming hunger, the lack of air, everything adds up and the black werewolf passes out.