Snippet of my Writing Journal

Ugh.  I have to do more battle tactics.  I like them, really, I do.  But right now I'm just so tired.  I sit down at the table and resign myself to them.  I pick up my charcoal pencil-I'm still glad Gilan bought it for me-and start on the sheet.
"So, you have to stop a raid from Skandians on a coast.  What do you do?"  Gilan asked.
"I would... first count them and assess how well I can deal with them on my own."  I answer.
"Good, so let's say there are 24.  What would you do next?"  Gilan prompts.
"I would.... ride Acorn 20 meters away and thin them out as we go along.  That would make them wary.  Eventually they might give up.  I would only wound them though!"  I say.  I can't bear the thought of killing the Skandians when they're only doing what they do best.  
Gilan nods.  "Good.  Now, what if you had to lead an attack on someone?"  
"I would.."  I pause, gathering my thoughts.  I go to answer his question, and find that I can't.  I try to move, but I just can't!  Help!  I want to scream.  In my mind I'm screaming, panicking.  I can barely breathe, I'm just taking in shallow breaths.  It's not enough!  
"Wisper, are you ok?"  Gilan asks, looking worried.  
No!  I want to scream back, but I can't.  It's like I don't even own my body anymore.  My eyes reflexively tear up and I can't even blink.  
"Wisper!"  Gilan says, and he shakes me.  I snap out of it.  I can move again.  I start crying and he holds me close.  "It's ok."  Gilan says softly.
"I couldn't move at all..."  I say.