[the branches crack and twist like hands, impossibly strong as they bind around his arm—how stupid is he, really, thinking a tiny knife would be enough to save him? And yet he still struggles fruitlessly, trying to pull away from the snare. The roots coil at his feet, more branches creeping up from behind, encircling his chest, his neck, how can trees move so fast—
The only limb left untouched is his other arm... of course, it would be a shame if Nene didn't do her job. Imagine how tragic it would be if she let go, right here, while Add is in the forest's palm? She would do good to keep him still.
He's bound firmly in place, and for a moment he wonders if he's going to die again already... but the wooden bindings tighten no further, even if it would be oh so easy for them to snap his taut neck like a twig. He's not left wondering for long as a final ragged branch lowers itself, tips sharpened to a point, winding and twisting into a single, long, thorny stick that stays level with his eyes... it sways, as if deciding between two choices, then
flicker of movement, darkness, a searing pain in his right eye
thrashing instinctively but he's trapped like an insect under a pin, thorns digging inside his skull, scraping against his optic nerve. branches rattle around him like laughter. someone is screaming. the leaves tickle his throat and he tastes blood, dripping, getting in his eyes, claws that scrape and grasp and twist and pull
he doesn't see the forest recede, taking with it its mangled prize. he only feels his legs give out when the supports are taken out from under him.]
cw: wow!!!! its eye-gouging time!!!!!!!
The only limb left untouched is his other arm... of course, it would be a shame if Nene didn't do her job. Imagine how tragic it would be if she let go, right here, while Add is in the forest's palm? She would do good to keep him still.
He's bound firmly in place, and for a moment he wonders if he's going to die again already... but the wooden bindings tighten no further, even if it would be oh so easy for them to snap his taut neck like a twig. He's not left wondering for long as a final ragged branch lowers itself, tips sharpened to a point, winding and twisting into a single, long, thorny stick that stays level with his eyes... it sways, as if deciding between two choices, then
flicker of movement, darkness, a searing pain in his right eye
thrashing instinctively but he's trapped like an insect under a pin, thorns digging inside his skull, scraping against his optic nerve. branches rattle around him like laughter. someone is screaming. the leaves tickle his throat and he tastes blood, dripping, getting in his eyes, claws that scrape and grasp and twist and pull
he doesn't see the forest recede, taking with it its mangled prize. he only feels his legs give out when the supports are taken out from under him.]