Ice had seeped over his skin after the pain became a dull agonizing ache. It sank into his bones and he felt his feet rotting with the pain of the seared flesh and the slashed tendon. The bones melted into frozen blocks of throbbing hurt. The nails were lances of molten searing metal through ice and he fancied where he curled around them that his ice flesh was melting. The cold seeped across his slashed face, turning the heat to cold, the screams to moans. His temples danced to a low drumbeat he could hear somewhere in his chest and the ends of his fingers, but the walls and floor were expanding and contracting like jelly around him. The tears never stopped and he felt each one trickle into the wounds in his cheeks.. the agony of salt in bleeding gaping torn flesh was unendurable. He was in a vise of pain, but there was no one to free him. He was in a trap, but no gentle druid's hands would open the jaws of torment.