The ocean crashed ashore; he heard it. Wave after thunderous wave, it never ceased. And it was all behind him. The sun beat down on his back. It seemed to burn him. He didn’t feel comforted by the rays like normal. His body felt heavier with the heat, and the soft sand accepted his weight.
He twitched his fingers. Making sure he still had motor functions. Clenched fistfuls of sand. He opened his eyes. Bright haze flooded his sight. The storm had passed. He lifted his head, but his strength was gone. It fell back down.
The water continued splashing and roaring. It never reached him. The wind whipped his knotted hair about his head. His heart rate picked up as his skin tightened. He realized he was drying. It grew harder for him to breathe. Lungs feeling constricted. His jaw slid open for more air. He received a mouthful of sand. His blurry vision momentarily blacked out.
A cry reached him. Shouting. Followed by responses of another voice. He tried moving, tried getting away. But it was useless. His muscles strained and trembled, but they didn’t move. He couldn’t make out what the two voices said, even as they approached. All his senses were fading quickly.
The pair was upon him now. There wasn’t anything he could do. Not even thrash. He would be subjected to them. Something was thrown upon him. It was wet. The excess water flowed along his form. He was picked up. They were carrying him.
Yet, the only thing that mattered was the liquid on his drying flesh and scales. It relieved him. He could breathe normally. His tense muscles finally relaxed. His heart beat eased. And he allowed the small amount of water succumb him into unconsciousness.