[It's faster than they have time to register in the moments allotted. Their recovery is startled and their balance is off, and there are hands on them working deftly to disarm them and drop the Knife, clattering, from between nerveless fingers. A muted cry worms up from underneath their tongue.]
[No, no, no, no, no, no, no - ]
[They're wrenching in her grip, desperate. Trying to claw, kick, bite any inch of her they can.]
[At their feet, the Knife's scarlet gleam abruptly fades to a worn silvered-gray. A Worn Dagger once more, now that it is parted from them.]
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[No, no, no, no, no, no, no - ]
[They're wrenching in her grip, desperate. Trying to claw, kick, bite any inch of her they can.]
[At their feet, the Knife's scarlet gleam abruptly fades to a worn silvered-gray. A Worn Dagger once more, now that it is parted from them.]