What Am I?

Islinda's thoughts were jumbled, and the voice calling out to her sounded distant and muffled. She could only make out what he was saying by squinting up at him and watching his lips move. She tried to respond, to reassure him that she was fine and just needed to gather her thoughts, but no words came out. Instead, her mouth opened and closed helplessly, panic gnawing at her chest. 

"By the gods, you should sit," Andre said, greatly concerned when he saw her disoriented state. He realized he shouldn't have pushed her too far. In all honesty, he didn't understand why he had done it. He just felt an overwhelming anger at her toying with his brother's emotions, especially considering their rivalry. He knew it wouldn't end well.

"Here, sit," Andre guided her back to the seat, noticing that she was shaking uncontrollably. It was clear she was in shock.