It's with unmitigated gratitude that Vincent allows air to rush back into his lungs, completely heedless of the ugly noises he makes as he does so. He has only the vaguest sense of where anything is currently, the darkness of intense strangulation mingling with his already damaged vision to leave nothing but faint shapes and flickers.
Even this is robbed from him when Kit thrusts an ungodly amount of his own blood right into his eyes, drawing a labored hiss of pain from him as they begin to burn anew. He couldn't have stopped him even if he'd seen the attack coming, not in this weakened state. As he coughs from the additional blow visited upon him before his opponent makes his escape, he hears his own voice echo through his mind with unfamiliar words.
Kurama, have you lost your mind!?
Now was not the time for this. His addled brain pushes the recollection of more blood, more pain to the side in favor of focusing on the here and now. It would be wise for him to take some time to recover - at least wipe the blood out of his eyes - but Vincent never even considers it. Instead he rolls over with a grunt, forsaking even delivering more oxygen to his body in favor of continuing the chase.
He can't see, and he can't use his legs to any useful degree, but he can still hear and crawl. With Kit as battered as he was he didn't have the wherewithal to mask his retreat; all he had to do was follow the sounds and hold it together until he could at least grasp onto a foot...
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Even this is robbed from him when Kit thrusts an ungodly amount of his own blood right into his eyes, drawing a labored hiss of pain from him as they begin to burn anew. He couldn't have stopped him even if he'd seen the attack coming, not in this weakened state. As he coughs from the additional blow visited upon him before his opponent makes his escape, he hears his own voice echo through his mind with unfamiliar words.
Kurama, have you lost your mind!?
Now was not the time for this. His addled brain pushes the recollection of more blood, more pain to the side in favor of focusing on the here and now. It would be wise for him to take some time to recover - at least wipe the blood out of his eyes - but Vincent never even considers it. Instead he rolls over with a grunt, forsaking even delivering more oxygen to his body in favor of continuing the chase.
He can't see, and he can't use his legs to any useful degree, but he can still hear and crawl. With Kit as battered as he was he didn't have the wherewithal to mask his retreat; all he had to do was follow the sounds and hold it together until he could at least grasp onto a foot...