[ He yells as she kicks into his back, pain cutting in through his panic at the very real threat she poses him. He has new, unfamiliar instincts that have his brain lighting up in a way he doesn't like, meant to leave behind— has to remind himself that weakness in his body here does not mean the same thing as weakness in his body back then.
She still has him pinned, though, and it's enough to draw Amos' attention away from mindless thrashing. He angles his neck to look up at her,
sees the blade she's got in her hand, where her gaze is directed, her demand for him to give his shard to her,
and eyes widening, he freezes. He needs to get away from her; has half a mind to claw at the ground with his hands, drag himself away — as though his human half could drag his heavy equine frame along with it. Two chests rise and fall in heavy, desperate breaths. He shuts his eyes, lets go.
And opens them again as he feels a sensation that's both familiar and now terrifying: weightlessness. Amos had let go, surrendered himself to his instincts, and gravity magic kicks in on a reflex. It's a queasy, panicked feeling now, alarm shooting off in his brain as deceptively fragile legs leave contact with the ground — but as long as Hayame is up and similarly unmoored (forced away from him, or at least unable to reach his shard) then he can swallow it down. (Maybe.) ]
I don't, [ he gasps out, visibly paler. Oh. No, this is still bad, ] want to fight.
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She still has him pinned, though, and it's enough to draw Amos' attention away from mindless thrashing. He angles his neck to look up at her,
sees the blade she's got in her hand, where her gaze is directed, her demand for him to give his shard to her,
and eyes widening, he freezes. He needs to get away from her; has half a mind to claw at the ground with his hands, drag himself away — as though his human half could drag his heavy equine frame along with it. Two chests rise and fall in heavy, desperate breaths. He shuts his eyes, lets go.
And opens them again as he feels a sensation that's both familiar and now terrifying: weightlessness. Amos had let go, surrendered himself to his instincts, and gravity magic kicks in on a reflex. It's a queasy, panicked feeling now, alarm shooting off in his brain as deceptively fragile legs leave contact with the ground — but as long as Hayame is up and similarly unmoored (forced away from him, or at least unable to reach his shard) then he can swallow it down. (Maybe.) ]
I don't, [ he gasps out, visibly paler. Oh. No, this is still bad, ] want to fight.
[ Because he'd lose. ]
Stop trying to make me.