Ghostcountry's Wrath (2015)
“Cold, sweet air!
Sandy couldn’t believe how great it felt just to be able to breathe again. For a long time she simply lay where she was: sprawled on all fours on what looked like a mix of sand and gravel, and smelled like a million things besides. Her sides heaved, her half-starved lungs dragged in breath after blessed breath. Unfortunately, each inhalation also brought more scents—and they were but part of the stimuli that besieged her, that insisted she ought to run, that it was folly to lie... thus exposed, that a thousand predators were waiting to— No! She was human—human! What mattered was regaining her own form, getting her bearings, and reconnecting with Cal—wherever he’d got off to. At present, half-dazed as she was, she wasn’t certain.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to rest a little longer: rest, and pant, and drink in air that though cold and thin was air, not that…stuff back in the gate. That had felt at first like a very heavy dust storm—only the solid quotient had increased geometrically the further into it she’d pressed, eventually becoming so great she’d actually held her breath to avoid breathing because it choked her, even as the thick air slowed her, like in one of those bad dreams when she tried to run and couldn’t.MoreLess
Sandy couldn’t believe how great it felt just to be able to breathe again. For a long time she simply lay where she was: sprawled on all fours on what looked like a mix of sand and gravel, and smelled like a million things besides. Her sides heaved, her half-starved lungs dragged in breath after blessed breath. Unfortunately, each inhalation also brought more scents—and they were but part of the stimuli that besieged her, that insisted she ought to run, that it was folly to lie... thus exposed, that a thousand predators were waiting to— No! She was human—human! What mattered was regaining her own form, getting her bearings, and reconnecting with Cal—wherever he’d got off to. At present, half-dazed as she was, she wasn’t certain.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to rest a little longer: rest, and pant, and drink in air that though cold and thin was air, not that…stuff back in the gate. That had felt at first like a very heavy dust storm—only the solid quotient had increased geometrically the further into it she’d pressed, eventually becoming so great she’d actually held her breath to avoid breathing because it choked her, even as the thick air slowed her, like in one of those bad dreams when she tried to run and couldn’t.MoreLess
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