Who Uses Moon Breathing Novels & Stories

His hands hang loose at his sides but his fingers twitch. “Feet shoulder width,” I instruct. “Knees soft. Do not lock them.” He adjusts. “Breathe in through your nose,” I continue. “Slow. Count to four.” He does. “Out through your mouth. Count to six.” His breath shakes on the release. “That is fine,” I say. “Do it again.” We breathe together. The bond hums. Quiet. Present. Minutes pass. Or maybe seconds. Time bends here. Blake opens his eyes. “It is louder tonight.”

I paused. “This also explains why patients are at their worst around the new moon. That is when the body’s rhythm fluctuates the most violently and the disconnect is hardest on the tissue.” I looked out at the room. “Lunar lung syndrome is not an external attack on the body. It is the body losing its connection with the moon entirely.” I turned back to the board and began writing. “The core of Moonlight’s drug development is to use natural medicinal compounds to suppress that disconnection while simultaneously repairing the lung tissue that has already been damaged. Four herbs. Specific ratios.”

That cultivation method was one of Granny Rafflesia's ultimate techniques—the Zen Moon Sutra. The main basis of the Zen Moon Sutra was to absorb the essence of the moon into the body to improve one's ability. It was a full moon with a clear sky that night—the best time to train. Even though Lilo was a playful girl, she trained hard too. She had only rested for a couple of hours before she went training before the sun came out. The con of that training method was that the person had to be naked. That was to ensure the moonlight could reach every part of the body. That was why Lilo checked on Darryl's condition after she went out.

The moon is a tiny yellow smudge on the horizon. A wave of exhaustion hits me, and I press my back against the wall and slide until I'm sitting on my butt. I take practiced gasps, trying to train my lungs to breathe around the wound. Each breath is torture; I feel like I'm inhaling balls of coal. I scan the darkness, although there's no need to. I heard the footsteps a while ago. “I can see you, Vayrek. Come out here, you fat slimy worm,” I say, sighing.

- That seems to be horrible - I look suspicious and he laughs - I just drink and immediately my bones break? - It might take a few minutes. If you want a tip, it's good to drink it all in one gulp - I make a disgusted face and hold my breath, turning the bottle over at once, I finish coughing - So? - Horrible - I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand - And now? - Relax your body and mind, you can look at the moon if you want. - She says and we look at the sky together, it was covered by clouds - Remember not to resist, it's going to be worse, it's her moment now.

Can Blood Moon Hybrids even die from lack of air? I glance back at the shore, but the fog is too thick to see anything. “J-Just do it,” I mutter to myself, my teeth chattering from the cold, “For J-Jesse.” Taking another deep breath, I plunge down into the water. Moving fast, I kick my legs, trying to use my abilities to give me an edge. However, that doesn’t stop my lungs from burning from the lack of air. My chest feels like it will explode, as the desire for air has me desperate to break through the surface and just get a mouthful of it. But I hold strong, impossible as it is.

The tube is used to supply us with air through out the night. I could feel the box slowly being lowered into the sand, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I could hear Nikau's breathing becoming more labored, and I knew the pain was starting to set in. I could feel his grip on my hand becoming tighter, and I leaned in closer, trying to offer him some comfort. I could feel his warmth radiating from his body, and I knew that we were in this together. As the moon began to rise in the sky, I could feel the transformation starting to take hold of my body. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath, trying to focus on the sensation.

The searing jolt of pain stole my breath, this was agony beyond anything I had ever endured, a violent dismantling of the self. “Moon Goddess! Aaahhh!” I roared, desperately convulsing and gasping for air as my throat elongated. The torment persisted as razor-sharp claws forcefully ripped their way through my flesh, and blood began to drip, hot and slick, onto the jungle floor. . “Concentrate on your breathing now, keep it steady!” a sudden, urgent voice commanded, much closer than Liam had been. The intense pain dulled slightly, as if a cooling cloth had been placed on my spine. Without thinking, I obeyed the voice.

Lying there, waiting for my fate, was what Damon wanted. I am not a victim. I am the key. And the key fights back. The cell was barely six feet long. I started with the breathing exercises Vladimir had taught me during our training, but I adapted them for labor. Deep, slow inhalation through the nose, controlled exhalation through the mouth, channeling the strength from the contraction rather than fighting it.

'Let me just center my chakras while the universe continues to screw me sideways. 'You’re being dramatic.' 'I learned from the best.' There’s a pause. 'Fair.' Still, I sit. Cross-legged. Back straight. Eyes closed. The night air is crisp against my skin. The grass beneath me is damp, like the earth’s been crying too. I inhale. Exhale. Inhale again. Then the moon shifts. I mean really shifts. The moon's light intensifies, flooding everything in silver-gold like it’s decided I’m the main character tonight.