He felt like he was drifting downwards.
Soren wasn’t sure what all was going on. He recalled up to that moment of piercing pain as he blocked the Wyrm from skewering Syr with its tail, and the brief moment of consciousness before he’d been flung aside. And now, it was all just black. It felt weighty, almost choking as he drifted further and further.
“This… this is death… is it? I’m… dying right now… aren’t I?”
But then came a sense of frustration, of annoyance. Frustration that he didn’t know what had happened to his companions. Annoyance he’d made a move so reckless. Soren could already hear the tongue lashing.
… if he ever got it, anyway.
Still, he continued to drift downwards. Yet it felt like something was there. It was slow, weak, but something reached him through that darkness. A breeze, light and warm… yet it passed so fleetingly he almost wasn’t sure if it was real.