Whatever Moiraine does tingles and flushes her with warmth; she gasps like she's been ducked underwater and is overtaken by a great, racking cough as something unpleasant in her lungs starts knitting itself together.

"Trying to get me in the sack," she says, idiotically, trying and failing to push herself up; she ends up faceplanting into the grass. "With skeletons –? Guess I'm getting boned."

She laughs, a little hysterically, and tries her level best not to pass out again or to freak out about how her brain is apparently short-circuiting. "I'm fine."