[Dist is becoming more and more frustrated the more he sees that this little whelp is just not getting off. He's vulnerable on his back like this, in a horrible position, and with a sword being waved so close to him. In fact, it's only by a narrow margin that Mithos' sword misses his brachial artery - a quick death if punctured. Instead, the sword slices a shallow but long cut down his forearm.
The pain makes Dist not only cry out, but loosen the grip on his gun, dropping it entirely.]
Aagh--! You...you filthy little dog! I'll...I'll turn you inside out! [He gasps, tears stinging in his eyes. Thankfully, some of the adrenaline numbs the pain, but not all of it. Even still, Dist manages to get his uninjured hand on Mithos' sword arm, keeping it at bay for as long as his strength holds out.]
[action]
The pain makes Dist not only cry out, but loosen the grip on his gun, dropping it entirely.]
Aagh--! You...you filthy little dog! I'll...I'll turn you inside out! [He gasps, tears stinging in his eyes. Thankfully, some of the adrenaline numbs the pain, but not all of it. Even still, Dist manages to get his uninjured hand on Mithos' sword arm, keeping it at bay for as long as his strength holds out.]