[ It's chaotic, and it doesn't feel great at all to have to take it to this point. Miguel decides to simply weather the thrashing and hitting, closing his eyes here or there to prevent fingers or elbows from being jabbed in painfully.
Once it's evident that the kid wasn't going to reach for the knife to stab him a second time, he eases his hold. He's relieved to see that the talons' scratches were shallow, but unnerved that he'd gone completely limp. ]
...I'm letting go now. Can you move?
[ He releases his hold, sitting back on his haunches. In the mess, he'd forgotten about the still bleeding wound in the crook of his arm, and he pulls out the knife. The blood was an unusual shade of purplish-red, and oozes out freely. It would heal itself soon enough. ]
no subject
Once it's evident that the kid wasn't going to reach for the knife to stab him a second time, he eases his hold. He's relieved to see that the talons' scratches were shallow, but unnerved that he'd gone completely limp. ]
...I'm letting go now. Can you move?
[ He releases his hold, sitting back on his haunches. In the mess, he'd forgotten about the still bleeding wound in the crook of his arm, and he pulls out the knife. The blood was an unusual shade of purplish-red, and oozes out freely. It would heal itself soon enough. ]