With worsening, laborious breaths, Quagmire made his best effort to stabilize his breathing, with one eye about to close because of exhaustion. He stood straight, but his body was shaking. Yet, despite all that, he gritted his teeth to the point that grinding sounds could be heard. He forced his eyes open wide and contorted his face to focus.
He tightly gripped his knife and pistol to the point his palms turned white, with some being grazed and blood flowing out, drip by drip. He resisted. With adrenaline rushing forth, it became more manageable. However, no matter how long he could resist, if he did not immediately get rest, then it would be for naught.
With his eagle-eye ability activated, his eyes dilated, and time seemed to slow down for him. The leaves fell slowly; the movement and details of each critter could be observed. The brightly illuminated verdant forest became so intensely covered that he thought he was losing himself.
