Sand.
That was the first thing Leona could taste, as the world swam back into existence. It was also the first thing she could feel, see and breathe, as her senses started to refocus. She instinctively drew breath, before she realised she couldn't without inhaling more of the blasted stuff and she arched her back, rolling over in a fit of wheezing, sand and seawater rolling forth from her mouth.
She wheezed, one last shaky breath before unceremoniously coughing the last of the vile liquid out before a soft, familiar presence touched her mind and she realised she'd had an audience the entire time.
Leona inclined her head in his direction and flicked her long, furred ears to try and dislodge what sand she could. The main member in her audience of two was casually sitting with his back against a rock, gazing thoughtfully out to sea, a serene expression on his face as he puffed on a pipe - an odd expression, considering the splintered timber, dead bodies and scattered cargo strew about the beach. "I'm okay, don't worry about me. Not dying or anything." Leona ran the back of her palm across her mouth, mopping up the last bit of drool from her episode.
He thoughtfully chewed on the end of his pipe, soft white smoke bobbing with the movement. "You just looked so peaceful, with your head in the sand. Figured I'd let you get a bit of an extra sleep in, it's been a long day for you, all two hours, that must be exhausting." He tilted his head towards her, unable to shoot over a shit-eating grin, before examining her with a bit of worry.
"Ha ha." Leona grumbled, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder and shakily pull herself to her feet. Well, standing upright was a lot harder than she remembered it being.