[ Even as he works to remove first one and then the other from harm's way, he is struck. By Sebastian's shadow, carving a furrow in the side of his mask that lays open like peeled steel, the vague hint of skin ( no, of something abyssal and black — ) peering through what might as well be an injury. He is, after all, more armor than man by this point in time. Siege is laid upon one of his arms by another creature, its sharp fangs digging into metal and heavy material again and again, biting deeper with each pass of its frenetic mashing; the scent of blood fills the air, briefly overpowering the scent of spilled viscera upon him.
His blood. That Liem seeks with his teeth.
For a moment, he is grateful to feel Liem's weight twist in his grasp — not to struggle away from him, but to crawl into his embrace. He seeks to gather him behind a thigh, to hold Liem aloft from the floor so that he may wade through the corpses, through the dying creatures, through the ones that still skitter and lunge — defensive, rather than offensive. They work in packs, he has noted, and to have diminished the size of the pack is to introduce the threat of certain death. Bondrewd wonders, briefly, whether or not Aetós had divested any of their monstrous charges of survival instinct — and then, he is bitten. ]
Ah?
[ Liem's teeth will struggle only with the initial material between them and Bondrewd's throat. He may bounce his own face off of the angle of the helm's jawline, but below is gathered cloth and cravat, torn loose by claw and tooth earlier. It presents a grand target, and one that is immediately between Liem's teeth; Bondrewd's blood is viscous, heavy in a way that speaks to something off, akin more to cough syrup than readily-flowing blood. All the same, he tastes? normal enough. ]
Aah, I see. [ ( Seeking behavior / query: defensive priority > sustenance requirement? / assess . ) ] Well. We go together then.
[ And with that, he snaps the tick-beast that has been latched onto him off his arm with a flick of his tail, and begins to wade towards the observation deck. Even with Liem gnawing on him, he holds him under one arm and forces his way through the door far before seizing the back of the man's head. ]
I would hate to defang you while removing you, Mister Talbott. Please come to your senses.
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His blood. That Liem seeks with his teeth.
For a moment, he is grateful to feel Liem's weight twist in his grasp — not to struggle away from him, but to crawl into his embrace. He seeks to gather him behind a thigh, to hold Liem aloft from the floor so that he may wade through the corpses, through the dying creatures, through the ones that still skitter and lunge — defensive, rather than offensive. They work in packs, he has noted, and to have diminished the size of the pack is to introduce the threat of certain death. Bondrewd wonders, briefly, whether or not Aetós had divested any of their monstrous charges of survival instinct — and then, he is bitten. ]
Ah?
[ Liem's teeth will struggle only with the initial material between them and Bondrewd's throat. He may bounce his own face off of the angle of the helm's jawline, but below is gathered cloth and cravat, torn loose by claw and tooth earlier. It presents a grand target, and one that is immediately between Liem's teeth; Bondrewd's blood is viscous, heavy in a way that speaks to something off, akin more to cough syrup than readily-flowing blood. All the same, he tastes? normal enough. ]
Aah, I see. [ ( Seeking behavior / query: defensive priority > sustenance requirement? / assess . ) ] Well. We go together then.
[ And with that, he snaps the tick-beast that has been latched onto him off his arm with a flick of his tail, and begins to wade towards the observation deck. Even with Liem gnawing on him, he holds him under one arm and forces his way through the door far before seizing the back of the man's head. ]
I would hate to defang you while removing you, Mister Talbott. Please come to your senses.