Pain. It coursed through my limbs. Swelling at the bubbling sections of my skin. Even breathing hurt. It was as if my lungs were on fire - being eaten away by whatever it was that was causing things to deteriorate. The dirt stung against the open wounds, but I didn't have the strength in my muscles to pull myself off of the ground. It was as if they had been pulled and were strings now.

My yellow orbs were squeezed shut, rivers of cussing in german flowing off of my breath as I continued to feel the shooting pain. But, it is that flow that is cut off sharply as I hear my name shrieked in a rough voice. There is a strong desire to lift my head, but I can't find the physical strength to lift the appendage which is now resting upon the soft grass. A weak snort escapes my maw as it blows out against the foliage as Agrona appears again asking what was wrong.

Well what do you THINK is wrong? Schwere growls in my skull. Agrona yells out for help, swinging her head around and, the curse words slowly begin to flow from my maw again - broken and shattered in their formation. Eyes squeeze shut once more as the dark mare brushes her maw against my check, neck flinching in pain as it rubs against unprotected muscle.

But it is not long before the flapping of wings and the soft thud of a landing falls upon my ears. Ghost, asking if one of us knew of a healer. And I did. Oh. I did. But I couldn't get the words out to explain - there was just too much pain. Yellow orbs look up toward Ghost, head still stuck on the ground - there is barely anything except death in my eyes. However, as more people begin to appear there is a spark of anger. I am not some circus attraction! I did not need this many people near me! Idiots! Unheil bellowed, He didn't like the lack of space that I had around me. And it is the comment about the dirt that has me choking on my words - wanting to cuss him out and tell him that perhaps he should try standing in my position (I'm not an idiot after all).

Then, there was an apology from a quiet voice. My nostrils were flaring as I waited on something to happen. Herbs falling into my mouth which I chew, slowly, painfully. Something seemed to seep against my injured pastern and I can only shudder and wince with the minimal amount of energy left in me. There is a few minutes of silence, of staggered and painful breathing, before I can actually get myself to form the words necessary. "Ghost... Reizend... White... Blue... Small... Gla-glass H-hooves." A hard cough escaping my maw between each word and then a gasp for breath as I wince at the pain of the dirt that is getting into my wounds. "Singing.... Heals..."'

There are too many people. It's making me too anxious. I don't want all of them here. I don't want to be this spectacle. No. I wanted Con to be this spectacle. And I wanted her to be killed instead of healed. One deep breath, shuddering in pain in the process. "DAMMIT GO - SOMEONE." I wanted to scream, but it only came out as a hoarse whisper - an urgent hoarse whisper (which I suppose I should be grateful for).

Now all that's left to do is to wince in pain and plead to the Earth God that Reizend get here soon enough.

SEELE