Matt has his hands full with the pack, dodging and parrying as best he can, the occasional blade biting through his clothes and catching on skin, but it's just flesh wounds staining his coat red and he doesn't let it slow him down. Can't let his guard down, or he's dead, and he knows it.
The explosion still takes him by surprise. The earth heaves below his feet, the shockwave blasting out from some point far too close, his ears ringing painfully with the force of it and temporarily deafening him, making him briefly lose track of his opponents.
He strikes out blindly, unable to feel even the vibrations in the earth that'd hint at their whereabouts, and that's when it hits him.
It's like being struck by a truck, big and solid and heavy, and Matt can feel bone crunch in his forearm and along his ribs on impact, knocking the breath from his lungs. All he can do is lie there wheezing, adrenaline running too high to really notice the pain just yet, his arm stubbornly refusing to help him even try to roll over so he can get to his feet.
The one bright spot is that with him down, he's apparently become a less threatening target, because they haven't killed him yet. Which means they're turning their attention back to the caravan.
No.
Matt fights against his body, sheer determination holding him together as he pushes himself back up, swaying heavily, left arm hanging uselessly at his side, struggling to get a grasp on what's going on around him.
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The explosion still takes him by surprise. The earth heaves below his feet, the shockwave blasting out from some point far too close, his ears ringing painfully with the force of it and temporarily deafening him, making him briefly lose track of his opponents.
He strikes out blindly, unable to feel even the vibrations in the earth that'd hint at their whereabouts, and that's when it hits him.
It's like being struck by a truck, big and solid and heavy, and Matt can feel bone crunch in his forearm and along his ribs on impact, knocking the breath from his lungs. All he can do is lie there wheezing, adrenaline running too high to really notice the pain just yet, his arm stubbornly refusing to help him even try to roll over so he can get to his feet.
The one bright spot is that with him down, he's apparently become a less threatening target, because they haven't killed him yet. Which means they're turning their attention back to the caravan.
No.
Matt fights against his body, sheer determination holding him together as he pushes himself back up, swaying heavily, left arm hanging uselessly at his side, struggling to get a grasp on what's going on around him.