It's hard to sing when you're only just regaining consciousness. And no one would know that better than, at the moment, Sinthia.
Sinthia, who is currently sporting a jagged cut above her temple and will soon have a matching lump on the back of her head, and is blinking at the world as it spins like some kind of demented centrifuge, images blurring and rocking and wobbling in a way they honestly ought not to. It's enough to make someone sick. The crumbling, shearing sound of crystalline-fused rock echoes in her ears loud enough that Caspian's call really sounds like little more than a dull susurrus under everything else.
One arm is alright, and both legs, but her right arm is pinned under a rock she can't seem to budge no matter how hard she shoves at it or tugs her arm--an action which only makes her go pale as her stomach clenches, wanting to retch because it hurts that badly to jostle her arm. "Caspian!" she shouts, though the dust clogs her mouth and lifting her voice to be heard over the ringing in her ears only makes her skull throb with her pulse.
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Sinthia, who is currently sporting a jagged cut above her temple and will soon have a matching lump on the back of her head, and is blinking at the world as it spins like some kind of demented centrifuge, images blurring and rocking and wobbling in a way they honestly ought not to. It's enough to make someone sick. The crumbling, shearing sound of crystalline-fused rock echoes in her ears loud enough that Caspian's call really sounds like little more than a dull susurrus under everything else.
One arm is alright, and both legs, but her right arm is pinned under a rock she can't seem to budge no matter how hard she shoves at it or tugs her arm--an action which only makes her go pale as her stomach clenches, wanting to retch because it hurts that badly to jostle her arm. "Caspian!" she shouts, though the dust clogs her mouth and lifting her voice to be heard over the ringing in her ears only makes her skull throb with her pulse.