"Gagh...!"
Philia's chest violently convulsed as heavy, calloused hands slammed into his back, forcing him onto his side in the wet gravel.
"Come on, kid, cough it up! Out with it!"
Philia spewed a harsh stream of cold river water onto the mud, choking and gasping for air that felt like needles dragging down his throat. Rain battered his face as he lay shuddering in the dark, his small body spasming as his lungs desperately fought for oxygen.
"There you go... easy now," a deep, weathered voice grunted above him, patting his back until the violent coughing fit finally subsided. "Get it all out."
Philia lay gasping against the wet mud, his vision swimming with river silt. Before his freezing mind could even process the dark silhouette kneeling over him, a thick, dry oilskin coat was wrapped tightly around his trembling shoulders. Strong, sturdy arms scooped him up off the bank as if he weighed nothing at all.
"Hold on, little guy," the voice muttered near his ear.
