a shiver runs through dracarys', dread pooling like ice in his belly as he nears the lake that he'd dragged himself from — the wound still fresh he can feel the desperate ache of his lungs for air, the raw pain of each breath as he drug it into his lips, cool air biting as it slid along his dry mouth, tongue, throat —

he shudders and scowls at the water, making an effort to skirt as far from it as he can without wandering into the next territory. it likely adds time to his exploration but it is a small price to pay to keep the looming ghost of death and unwanted memories from haunting him.

gaze locked on the horizon, dracarys pushes south thru the rain drenched evening; watching the grey sky above darken as evening began to morph into dusk.