[When he felt his head yanked back, it finally occurred to him that he could die at any moment. She could cut his throat, tear it out, snap his neck, and there would be nothing he could do about it. And although he made his peace with death a very long time ago, the utter pointlessness of dying here hits him like a heavy weight.
But she does none of those things, and instead he feels razor-sharp teeth sink into his neck. He lets out a pained gasp, mixed with a sense of revulsion, and he tries, once again, to reach for his knife--
Then come the gunshots. He doesn't bother to check who the shooter is, simply tries to take the element of surprise to shove Rip away from him.]
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But she does none of those things, and instead he feels razor-sharp teeth sink into his neck. He lets out a pained gasp, mixed with a sense of revulsion, and he tries, once again, to reach for his knife--
Then come the gunshots. He doesn't bother to check who the shooter is, simply tries to take the element of surprise to shove Rip away from him.]