I feel the poisoned tip of the sharpened spear cut through my skin and pierce my already aching and injured lower back muscle as I strafe to the left, sink my feet into the muddy soil, and leap a few feet further, to try and escape an unexpected and unwanted army of murlocs that thought it fair to disrupt my farming and attack and act as if what I was doing was such a horrible crime I deserved the death penalty.
Their unintelligible cries follow me still as I run and run, until they decide to retreat and await a new victim. My bounciness doesn't help me run. In fact, it only ever does slow down. Nonetheless, I find myself no longer in combat fifty yards away from the murloc camp, and I feel the relief flood my system when the Jade Cloud Serpent appears beside me, allows me to sit down on its back and lets my tired self be carried the long way to the next quest I have decided to take on.
I feel the wind on my face, the aches of my previous battles that day. I smell the courage of my peers in the air as I see them below me, far ahead or not close to being in my footsteps at all. I smell the many herbs of the Broken Isles and find myself blinded by the ore when I look down and the rays of sunshine from overhead fall upon them and make them appear shiny bright. I can see my destination if I focus very well. The green glow is not hard to miss if you know where to look for it and are not myopic.
I feel the wavy motions I have learned to associate with my beloved Serpent as it bursts through a cloud and then finds itself – with me – into the open air once more, only blue ahead. I feel like I am a rag doll, like I float upon an ocean that never has a flood tide, only ebb. This is my very last thought before consciousness ebs from me, and the long nights of little to not sleep and the exhaustion that has, or so it feels, sunken into my very veins, finally catches up to me then – at least until I arrive at the Broken Shore, until I charge into the next enemy, enraged and regenerated.