How beautiful our children are, Didianne

The surroundings became inclemently arctic, or perhaps it is just because of the Duke's falling body temperature? The skin color of Conan Bray Arvendon's once lush and tawny has now become dangerously pallid. 

Drowsiness slowly eating him up as time goes by. Duke Conan's eyelids became heavier each time he blinked. His head wavering up and down, left and right, as he forced himself to stay awake. 

"Kuueerrrghhh!" Duke Conan barfed. Nauseated because

of the blood loss from his brutal wounds. But what concerns him the most was his mutilated lungs. 

He hefted himself a little, enough for him to lift his body gear, but stopped because of the searing pain in his lungs. 

Duke Conan gripped his chest and raised his chin, trying to catch his breath. "Ack! Hah! Hah! Cough Cough!" he coughed as he choked from lack of air. 

He pulled his collar in an attempt to make it easier for him to breathe. Which he successfully did.