"Illinfer..." His voice drew her in while her breath hitched. It was getting harder to breathe and she was starting to feel lightheaded. Rhoynar drew his arm away. Was she bothering him? She cursed herself. Being this useless in such a situation! How could she fail to this degree? What would Jurlath have said to this? Surely he'd have been disappointed and shocked. He'd never seen his wife like this. Of course not! With him at her side she would never have faltered!

"Is everything alright?" The voice called her, pulling her in, making her lean towards it a bit more. "You're going to faint if you don't breath, you need to take a deep breath, slowly before you collapse." She was feeling lightheaded. The warrior started quivering, her grip on her companions arm weakening as she tried to concentrate on her breathing, her lungs straining as she could only draw quick shallow breaths. Her thoughts kept spiraling and she was unable to concentrate on Rhoynar for long. As he took her hand she was startled and actually amanged to look up at him . . . through him. Tears now welled in her eyes, threatening to overflow. Her gaze was distant. She felt distant, caught in her own mind.

"You need to breath right now, or tell me precisely what's going on. Just try to focus on what I'm saying, and slow down. Everything's going to be fine. It may seem strange here but the medicine is no different, if you do need a Doctor, it will be alright. Just try to slow your breathing down." Grounding. His words, his voice, was pulling her back. Something about the soft rumble and articulation spoke to her and drew her pack from her panic enough to draw a slightly deeper breath. Illinfer couldn't focus quite yet, but her laboured breathing eased the tiniest bit, allowing her eyes to focus on Rhoynar. His lips, the movement of them as he spoke drew her gaze. "Here, drink instead, just a little at a time."

With a slight jerky shake of her head Illinfer declined the drink she was offered. "I don't understand, its just wine..." Another slightly deeper breath, clearing her head just enough to try and attempt a verbal reply. Her voice was shaky and faint as she spoke. "Not ill. . . . Jurlath" Had she mentioned the name of her dead husband to her travel companion on the ship? Was that even important now? After having spoken those little words it felt a bit easier to continue. "We wanted . . . . . Wanted to come here together . . . someday . . ." She trailed off as her breath hitched again. The pain, the realization, the loss flooding her very being. The tears she had been fighting against now freely ran over her face. She barely noticed. The hurt was starting to change to numbness. "I miss him . . ." Her voice was barely a whisper.

It was then that she realized she couldn't come back from this right now. She hadn't had much time to grieve with her responsibilities crowding her days and challenging her every single day. Now that she was so far from all that she knew her grief came crashing down, drowning her in a tidewave of emotions. She'd never have thought she'd be so still, so paralyzed. She'd always thought of herself as more of the explosive type to burst out in rage and hurt and destruction. Instead she was here, trembling, hyperventilating and clinging to the only known thing close to her. A travel companion she was only starting to get to know better and who she had sword to protect.

Finally loosening her grip enough that her touch was only a slight wait on Rhyonars' wrist she lifter her gaze to his eyes. When had they moved so close to eachother. "I'm sorry . . ." Her breath was still laboured but she seemed to be calming down - or rather starting to become numb, her head spinning as dark spots clouded her vision. "Please forgive me!" A whispered plea. She managed to hold on to consciousness, focussing on her travel companion. Would he abandon her? She wouldn't even blame him. In this state she was a liability.