[ he must be absolutely out of his mind because there's nothing in what dorian says that's funny, but he laughs anyway. or, at least, tries to, the sound fading away as he's awash with all sorts of different sensations. the pain in his leg, his stomach, his face and head. his thoughts are still scattered, picking apart those words and then getting distracted by dorian's closeness. his heartbeat. the thirst he feels is so intense he doesn't respond for an eternity. ]
It'll stop on its own. [ eventually, maybe. he's only been struck down like this once, and the outcome had him relying on jericho's bitter werewolf blood to heal. he almost gags at the memory.] Sit me up.
[ it's still difficult to speak and moving is agonizing, but dorian's right. they need to get off the street. if anyone comes back to make sure they'd finished the job and found dorian... his hand tightens on him, searching for strength he doesn't have so he can try to get to his feet. ]
Need – to go. You're, [ his vision blurs when he leans forward. ] Not safe.
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It'll stop on its own. [ eventually, maybe. he's only been struck down like this once, and the outcome had him relying on jericho's bitter werewolf blood to heal. he almost gags at the memory.] Sit me up.
[ it's still difficult to speak and moving is agonizing, but dorian's right. they need to get off the street. if anyone comes back to make sure they'd finished the job and found dorian... his hand tightens on him, searching for strength he doesn't have so he can try to get to his feet. ]
Need – to go. You're, [ his vision blurs when he leans forward. ] Not safe.