Images speed by, blurred by pain and the tight control. Every movement of the horse's haunches jolts pain up his back. Good arm wrapped around Gareth's waist, Ob holds on as best he can. An errant thought drifts by, proving to Ob that he is not as in control as he thought.
I am stone... how is the horse taking my weight?
Another jolt has him wincing as he tries to get a better grip. The horse veers on the trail, nearly brushing a tree. Ob shifts his balance and nearly screams as his injured wing is pulled hard. His grip slips and he scrabbles to keep his balance nearly pulling Gareth off his mount. A spell snaps around the Gargoyle. Ob finds himself held, carried along as if cuddled in a soft net. He thanks the Goddess for Fae and their strange magic, letting his mind sink into oblivion.
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