[For a long moment, Emil is frozen in his tracks, wide-eyed and with his mouth half open, as that gross thing screeches at him and then unfolds what looks like a giant machete or something, except hooked at the end, and it's awful. All that runs through his head over and over is 'jävlar' on repeat, until suddenly Reynir is grabbing his shoulders and steering him away from the rampaging creature.
As soon as Reynir gives him that momentum, Emil is running too, darting out of the way of the projectile slime vomit with the acrid smell, and Reynir is swearing, hanging onto his sleeve. Twisting his hand, he grips Reynir's sleeve in return, his mind moving as fast as it can, his breath coming sharp and shallow. He's already getting tired; Emil has never had really great endurance when it comes to running, but he keeps pushing himself.]
They're...they're gaining. Shit, fuck, we're gonna get stuck down and eaten!
[Unless he does something about it, of course. Blinking to himself, he thinks for just a few seconds, and the distraction has him tripping slightly over his own feet. For just a moment, he totters, his balance wavering, but then he catches himself.]
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As soon as Reynir gives him that momentum, Emil is running too, darting out of the way of the projectile slime vomit with the acrid smell, and Reynir is swearing, hanging onto his sleeve. Twisting his hand, he grips Reynir's sleeve in return, his mind moving as fast as it can, his breath coming sharp and shallow. He's already getting tired; Emil has never had really great endurance when it comes to running, but he keeps pushing himself.]
They're...they're gaining. Shit, fuck, we're gonna get stuck down and eaten!
[Unless he does something about it, of course. Blinking to himself, he thinks for just a few seconds, and the distraction has him tripping slightly over his own feet. For just a moment, he totters, his balance wavering, but then he catches himself.]
You think these guys like fire?