Arms wrapped around Baelin’s torso as they went down and the pair landed heavily. For a distressing moment, Baelin couldn’t breathe. And as soon as he was able to suck in a shaky gasp, he was being shoved to the side. Disoriented, Baelin barely even registered the first sloppy punch coming towards him.
But it was indeed a hit. And it landed solidly on his jaw. While it may have been a weak blow, Baelin had made no attempt to dodge and it landed cleanly. His head snapped back from the force of it and bright patterns erupted before his eyes. He tasted the coppery tang of blood as his teeth cut into his tongue, and his entire jaw
ached.
He ignored all of that. It was a concern for later. Instead, he surged forward and wrapped his limbs around Karyk. Maybe to strangle him, or maybe just to immobilize him. Baelin wasn’t sure. It was instinct more than anything that had him squeezing tight, as if constricting the man so crushingly might render him victorious.
If Baelin could take a step back and examine what he was doing, he might be able to recognize how very inhuman his attack was. How it alluded more to the assault of a constrictor snake than it did a man. But he wasn’t able to take a step back. No, he was mired right in the thick of it, and he wanted to
win. So he groped about awkwardly as he squeezed, trying to find the best place for purchase against his foe. One arm hooked across Karyk’s midsection, another closer to his neck. A leg looped around his knees, and an ankle caught one of the man’s boots. It was an absurd hold, and after a tick Baelin realized it wasn’t doing much of anything. So he readjusted, trying to get his arms up to the man’s neck while his legs attempted to just hold him in place.
OOCGonna go ahead and get this thread to a stopping point.Baelin was dimly aware of alarmed shouts rushing towards the wrestling pair. Before he could get any kind of solid grip on Karyk, others from the caravan had grabbed onto Baelin and were pulling him off.
“Karyk!” one of them shouted, “You alright, mate!?”
“Shyke’s sake,” another growled in Baelin’s ear, the man attempting to lock his arms, “Someone help me with this petcher!”
Baelin snarled and bucked against the hold. The stranger held fast, swearing and squeezing tighter. Baelin threw his head back and felt his skull ram solidly into something behind him. The man yelped and dropped his hold long enough for Baelin to force his way out.
He didn’t get far. More of the caravan had rushed over to see what the commotion was. Baelin had barely managed two steps before someone else was on him. This newcomer must have had some sort of training, because Baelin couldn’t even tell you what happened. One moment he was standing and the next he was pinned on his belly, arms twisted behind his back, and reeling from the shock of his head slamming into the ground.
For a tick or two, Baelin couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. His brain shutdown and he was just
gone. And then as suddenly as they had gone, his senses came back online in a dizzying blur of confusion. People were shouting. Something was digging into his back. Hands pulled on him and he limply went along with them, sluggish in his struggle to get back up to speed with whatever the hell was going on.
What was he doing here? What happened? Who were these… Someone shouted at him to stay still. Baelin blinked and looked over, then groaned as a headache pummeled him. He buried his head in his hands, and all of it eclipsed to agony.