Snippet #1730849

James ignored Tom's mad screaming, intent on trying to make it to the door. He was nearly there too when a hand grasped his ankle and the sharp point of a knife plunged into the side of his leg. A wail bubbled from his throat, an animal cry. He fell sideways, against the wall, trying to remain calm as adrenaline pulsed in his body. Blood began to run down his leg swiftly, pooling below. The knife had made it to bone, and the pain was agonizing. James would be limping for hours. But that was probably not going to be the worst of his injuries by the look on Tom's face. His worst mistake, a human instinct, was pulling away, making the knife tear across his leg before it lost contact with him. Stupid! He mentally berated himself through the haze of pain. But what was done was done, there was nothing around that. It was made even more futile a gesture because Tom's hand was still wrapped around his ankle.

Maybe he could just give the man a good kick in the face and bolt painstakingly away? But then he'd get in trouble for interfering with the game. James's body was trembling with the effort of holding all the pain and adrenaline in his little body. His green eyes were wide, and his mouth was open in a shocked expression. Tears were escaping again, but there was no sobs, just the lingering animal wail emitting from his throat. He was a young gazelle struck down by a lion. Wait, no...Did gazelles and lions live together? The wail quieted as James momentarily contemplated that. The thought, so outside of the pain, was like a life raft, and James clung to it desperately, drawing himself away from the burning in his leg and mind.

That was something Drake had unwittingly taught him. Not through any conventional lesson, but from the necessity to escape the pain that followed Drake where ever he went. Distractions. Beautiful distractions. His body still reacted to the pain, sweat making his body sticky and his breaths come fast. But his mind was a bit more serene as he thought about gazelles and mountain lions, neither of which he'd seen personally. But they were nice to think about. James stared up at the ceiling, the top of his head resting against the wall, his body heaving with each breath, which was accompanied by a strained whine.