[ Oh my god Aziraphale. Sam would have a rush of affection for that, if, you know.
He weren't busy trying to push himself back from Mad March and fill his lungs with enough air at the same time. At the moment, he's just counting himself lucky that he knows how to angle to prevent himself from being injured when he landed.
Every breath feels like broken glass, but hell, he'll take it. He pushes himself up into a crouch, warily eying Mad March in case he comes in for a repeat. ]
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He weren't busy trying to push himself back from Mad March and fill his lungs with enough air at the same time. At the moment, he's just counting himself lucky that he knows how to angle to prevent himself from being injured when he landed.
Every breath feels like broken glass, but hell, he'll take it. He pushes himself up into a crouch, warily eying Mad March in case he comes in for a repeat. ]