[In fairness, he wasn't that hurt. He'd managed to block what he needed to. That old leather jacket was good for more than just looking cool and keeping his letter safe.

She gives him a strange look and it makes his head tilt. Perhaps he shouldn't have said that. Maybe that's too morbid, breaking some rule or other he hadn't noticed. But then she's at his side, leaning on him and he leans just the slightest bit back, resting his head on hers. He feels some of his tension unwind for a second before that question. It makes his breath catch, but his words are calm.]

No... that was later... [He should be grateful for that. And yet.] It's not clear... it's... probably not different... than anyone's story... I remember... patches... something caught... my ankle... tried to bite... grazed... but I got away... just to be caught... too scared... too scared...

[And fear led to carelessness and carelessness... well.]

...fell on me... tried to grasp... to claw... [He reaches up, his fingers grazing his throat, where the gaiter covers most of the scratches.] tried to bite... stupid... blocked with... my arm...

[His eyes close. He sighs. There's not much more he needs to say there. He was bit. It was over.]

Found some... shed... can't recall... bleeding everywhere... hurt... I-I wished... I wasn't alone... wished... I'd lived... wasted chance... Fever was fast... It was all... too fast... too much...

[So much for being her hero. He'd gone out cowardly.]