He looked around in horror and fear, before looking at himself.

He's bleeding at the fingertips. Noting his stained fingers, they've been bleeding for a while. They don't hurt, oddly, though that might be because of the distant feeling dulling everything. His wings hurt horribly, though, even with the distant feeling.

He turned to look at his body.

His skin is even more pale and thin than normal, and he's horrifically skinny. Which is more than enough to figure it out.


He's ironsick. Severely ironsick.

Whats that mean? He ate iron?

That's the only possible way for him to get as severely ironsick as this. And yet, his throat doesn't hurt, nor his mouth or tongue. He hasn't eaten any iron.

Huh. Neat.

A sudden, horrible wave of nausea overwhelms him, and for a couple of seconds his legs go completely numb. Even with the distance from this being a vision, it's still a horrid feeling.

He collasped, in pain.

His wings feel like they're burning. Not metaphorically, either- it literally feels like his feathers have been set aflame.