He wasn't. The wards made him somewhat complacent. If he was on grounds, he was reasonably sure he wouldn't be in danger. It was part of the reason he'd even taken up the position. For the neutral protection while he did...whatever it was he was doing.
And his calm/friendly pheromone aura tended to keep the peace around him beyond that.
He couldn't really anticipate how a cured member of the species might be resistant or sensitive to anything post revival.
The wards didn't really understand much about the situation. Could be medicine? It was probably medicine. Like insulin. It's not exactly built to discern more than harmful intent and obvious weapons and deadly toxins. And an undead having living respirations was not exactly an indication of danger??? The air was heavy with confused magic, but nothing was happening yet.
Jericho, on the other hand, lashed out violently and immediately once he'd caught up to what was happening a fraction of a second after the plunger was pressed. Before Jericho could land a blow, the ward shoved him down hard into the floor and held him there. Wide-eyed and holding in a scream of pain directly after.
Pins and needles of a deadened limb waking up times a thousand and everywhere all at once. Choked on a few breathes that his revived nervous system forced while perspiration came back along with color to his skin and eyes. Frantic and expressing quite a lot of fear and panic. Anyone would under that kind of pain and the invisible pressure of force the ward was exerting to keep him from trying to scratch Jim's eyes out.
He made so little sound, the other staff didn't notice the change happening.
When the pain ebbed, he curled up onto his knees and kept his forehead to the floor. Arms wrapped around his stomach as the hunger pangs made him feel down right nauseous. He hadn't fed in at least a month and it translated into him being revived with the sensation of someone starved half to death. He wasn't used to that. Or how hot he felt all over. Breathe ragged.
gracieabrams
