[He winces at the jab, knowing what's happened by the familiarity of the sensation. But blood usually goes out; not poison, in. It brings Sieghart to his knees as he struggles to remain upright, propped in position with his sword pointed at the floor.
Someone is coming, he thinks before his inevitable collapse. His blood turns cold from equal parts poison and dread. The kids behind him are in danger, and he can't even muster up the strength to stand.
All he can think about next is how he can protect them—because he refuses to accept that this is the end; there's no way—when Soluna falls onto the metal grating with a clang and he collapses onto his side.]
no subject
Someone is coming, he thinks before his inevitable collapse. His blood turns cold from equal parts poison and dread. The kids behind him are in danger, and he can't even muster up the strength to stand.
All he can think about next is how he can protect them—because he refuses to accept that this is the end; there's no way—when Soluna falls onto the metal grating with a clang and he collapses onto his side.]