( A chain. Something about the restricting metal wrapping around his arm causes a visceral reaction in Shealtiel. He moves instantly, yanking his arm back and curling his clawed fingers around part of the chain. In a surprising show of strength, he pulls further, swinging, trying to take Azula along with it or otherwise free himself.
But it's not pure rage in his eyes. There's fear. Panic. )
D-don't touch me!
( It's not a touch, it's a chain, but the words came out automatically, his voice cracking in the stress of it. His focus is breaking, though, and there's something disjointed in small parts of his movement.
His memories may be stolen, but there's something in there that recognizes this doesn't feel right. )
no subject
But it's not pure rage in his eyes. There's fear. Panic. )
D-don't touch me!
( It's not a touch, it's a chain, but the words came out automatically, his voice cracking in the stress of it. His focus is breaking, though, and there's something disjointed in small parts of his movement.
His memories may be stolen, but there's something in there that recognizes this doesn't feel right. )