[ The breath is punched out of him as he's dragged off balance, hissing in something between frustration and offense at his horns being used like godsdamned handles. The grip means he's not going to shake them off any time soon, and he may not be much of a barehanded fighter but Molly knows better than to let himself be pulled to the floor. Which means it's time to get creative.
It's hard to think with his head being wrenched awkwardly to the side, but some things are instinctive enough to bypass all of his missing memory. Without conscious thought he reaches for the odd power he can feel fizzing through his blood, gathering it together to blind whoever is behind him. It won't work for more than a second or two if it takes, but that might just be enough to let him scramble free.
And without any visible wound, a trickle of blood drips down his oddly twisted neck, dripping down the tattooed peacock towards his shoulder. ]
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It's hard to think with his head being wrenched awkwardly to the side, but some things are instinctive enough to bypass all of his missing memory. Without conscious thought he reaches for the odd power he can feel fizzing through his blood, gathering it together to blind whoever is behind him. It won't work for more than a second or two if it takes, but that might just be enough to let him scramble free.
And without any visible wound, a trickle of blood drips down his oddly twisted neck, dripping down the tattooed peacock towards his shoulder. ]