Curlykit had felt the fangs sink in his throat. He felt his breath being tore from him, his voice. He expected it to hurt. He expected to be in agony. Why wasn't he? He couldn't open his eyes. What was that smell? Was that Crownkit? Her voice seemed so distant. He felt so cold. So distant. It felt kind of like he was sinking into his own mind. Was Burlkit right? Would he become a spirit? Or was Curlykit right when he said spirits don't exist? Guess he would find out. If Burlkit was right and Curlykit saw him again, he'd never hear the end of it. The sounds were growing farther. He was supposed to be a guard. Guards never fell right? Maybe they did but they always got back up. He would get back up.. But right now he was tired. Wise guards conserved their energy then attacked right? He should do that. He should just lay there for a moment. It was warm, but he still felt cold. The scents around him were fading. They were right. Funny, was it not? It really was just like falling asleep.
