Barely pushing past the panic right as the creature lashed out, smashing the thin branch he was on at the base, Tedrick managed to compel his tired body to move.

Half-falling, half-flying, he dipped around branches without direction, just desperately trying to avoid a further impact. Not because of the pain, but because it would let the snake catch up.

But it didn’t seem to matter. It was beside him.

It couldn’t be. He’d just seen it way too far back to be here. The air felt like ozone.

Was that what magic felt like? Could this snake use magic?

His shield shattered to pieces except for the handle and an inch or two of remaining mass coming out of the center grip handle and sent him flying as it lashed out with its tail. His arms already felt like he was trying to block a sledgehammer at a strong man competition, numb to the point of feeling only pressure and pins and needles, and that was before getting swatted like a fly. That was while the snake was somehow gliding along beside him deftly, too. This was a creature clearly built to hunt and kill flying prey.

Less luckily, the bush he seemed to land in was covered in thorns. His back, neck, ass, and legs were further lacerated, pierced in a thousand tiny places, none of which were as numb as his arms. It seemed his wings were tougher than his flesh, thankfully, as they stopped the thorns, breaking off the tips of them and protecting the flesh behind them.

Weren’t some thorns poisonous? His mind was filled with images of black locust trees. His back began to burn, but he wasn’t sure if that was psychosomatic.

Tedrick noticed that the snake had stopped the chase, staring at him from a short distance away, avoiding the thorns.

Yeah, that’s likely toxic.

It was waiting on him, and for good reason. As it stood, he was going to die. Either by bleeding out from the now heavily traumatized wounds and many piercings, or by a huge dose of whatever this poison was.

Death by bush.

The thought made him want to laugh and scream simultaneously. What a ridiculous way to fucking go. He never imagined some heroic crap, but certainly not this.

Well, if he was going to die by anything in this situation, it was going to be by snake, not bush. He could take his dignity with him to the grave at least

Shoving himself off the thorns with his wings, he let himself start to fall before jerking up hard whenever he saw the snake start to lash out. The whiplash sucked, but it got him a little distance.

Not enough.

Darkness consumed his vision as he was snapped shut into the mouth of the snake, sporting blessedly few teeth… this far forward, at least. The back of its throat was bristling with teeth, like a combo of a meat grinder and a filter.

The odd action movie or two he’d seen on his few weak attempts at dates came to mind. The hero gets eaten by the monster, and to stop them the hero…

An idea struck. It can’t swallow him without its mouth closed.

Focusing, as best he still could at least, he commanded his once-shield: grow. Tall and thin and sharp. Pierce the beast's maw. The inside was always softer than the outside.

A loud hissing roar vibrated around him as Tedrick was lashed side to side in the snake's mouth, as it tried desperately to shake loose whatever hurt it so.

He’d been reaching out like he did with the bird, albeit with far less power this time, more a gentle caress of thoughts than the deathgrip he had on the other. A single thought came through the muddled pain and frustration; thorn? waited.

Thorns. Great idea. As the snake opened its mouth to try to eject the problem, Tedrick reached out with his telekinesis to pull in another.

A whole bush of problems, actually. Another thorny bush came flying to him, right into the snake’s face. He made sure to exit its mind this time first, likely a good idea with how it thrashed in pain. He had unfortunately covered his way out, however, even lightly puncturing his front now too to match his back. Only briefly though, as he shoved the branch away with his mind, ripping out many little pieces of snake flesh as he ejected it with as much force as he could telekinetically. More roars and hisses. More thrashing. The slick spike he held to had snapped its top half in the thrashing, and the bottom half was slathered in slick blood.

Tedrick lost what little strength he had left, vision beginning to blur as waves of dizziness struck him. Numbness. Headache. Chest pain. Weakness on his right side. Nausea.

That was internal bleeding, he thought vaguely as he was flung from the creature's mouth. The snake, on the other hand, looked just fine, albeit all kinds of frustrated and angry.

Thankfully, he was too small to pursue after putting up so much trouble. The snake vanished with the smell of ozone and a quiet noise akin to snapping twigs as he felt himself stop moving.

Oh. He landed on something. No thorns this time it seemed. Delightful.

Maybe he should sleep all this pain and panic off.

The decision made, he began to fall into oblivion. This was very relaxing.

But something was a little off. What was the matter?

He was dying?

Of course he was dying. Look at what just happened! He’d have to be a fool to believe he could get out of that safely.

Don’t be greedy, Tedrick, you’ve had your share of luck.

Just rest.

He settled again, but something was still wrong. A rising, boiling, hateful fury. Rushing up the depths of his soul, consuming everything it touched. “At what?” He wondered internally, but the answer was very clear.

Everything.

To hell with his share of luck, he’d take it all if that’s what it took to survive this. He was not going out like this.

He felt almost a sigh of exasperation as he began to faintly dig through memories, looking for a way out in defiance of fate.

His wrist came to mind. The carving of his initials into his wrist. The bleeding. He numbed it. Maybe he could try again.

He’d have to do a whole sight better than numbing this time though.

No pressure.