[ It is a profoundly unpleasant experience to be yanked into the air by the inside of your own lungs. Dimitri's yell chokes off, ribs frozen along with his breath, unable to expand or contract --
-- panic swallows him. He enters every battle ready to die, but suffocation cuts to a withered survival instinct long since deadened to anything else. He thrashes, kicking, insofar as he can around the solid block in his chest; his hands claw at his throat, sternum, at his ribs as if he could tear himself from the place where he's held.
Out of the corner of a watering eye, he catches the dark blur of Darcy's movement. His mouth moves. There's no sound but the faint clicking as his throat spasms. ]
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-- panic swallows him. He enters every battle ready to die, but suffocation cuts to a withered survival instinct long since deadened to anything else. He thrashes, kicking, insofar as he can around the solid block in his chest; his hands claw at his throat, sternum, at his ribs as if he could tear himself from the place where he's held.
Out of the corner of a watering eye, he catches the dark blur of Darcy's movement. His mouth moves. There's no sound but the faint clicking as his throat spasms. ]
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