@needleandstory trim reblogs decided to be mean
CRACK. There is a sharp, painful sound. The spindly, ragged figure goes almost instantly limp, knife falling to the ground beside him.
The next thing Kalmar is aware of is the dirt in his face and the ringing noise rebounding off the inside of his almost-certainly-cracked skull. He's only truly out for a count of seconds, though, before a soft, muffled giggle escapes from him, body rolling to the side, turning to look up at what -- for a single alarming, blurry moment -- looks like nothing if not himself. Damp soil sticks to the blood on his face. A trail of his own begins cutting a track through it, starting at one nostril.
He would say something, but he's too busy laughing in earnest now, too busy trying not to let any more bones get crushed. Twists up with surprising speed, making a rough grab for Cyrus's leg with hands that are quite abruptly on fire.
