Explore "Deathworld" by Harry Harrison on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
For a strange length of time after that, there were only hazy patches of memory that impressed themselves on Jason. A sense of movement and large beasts around him. Walls, wood-smoke, the murmur of voices. None of it meant very much and he was too tired to care. It was easier and much better just to let go.
"About time," Rhes said. "A couple more days lying there like that and we would have buried you, even if you were still breathing."