(no subject)
Auggie doesn't actually notice it at first - the light weight on his torso that started to move up his chest with a slow deliberation. In fact, he doesn't notice anything until that same weight ends up on top of his face, immediately cutting off his air supply. He let out a muffled gasp, grasping at whatever was attacking him - and that's what he immediately assumes, that someone is holding whatever it is on his face. He finds no one there, but what he does realize, when his hand grasps onto the object, is that it's fuzzy.
An animal? It doesn't make sense to him - there's no smell that'd give him a hint of what it could be, and it doesn't feel warm, but it's definitely still moving, and he definitely swears he can feel little claws scraping against his cheeks. Gripping down on its back, he pulls - hard - to get it off, throwing it off to the side, across his room. No cry of pain to give him a hint of what the hell is attacking him, but he also doesn't hear anything scurrying out of his room through the door or the window, either, so he stands, every part of his body tensed up, as he tries to figure out where it went just by sound.
Whatever it is, it's small, with footsteps too faint for him to hear. He only knows where it is only when he feels something start trying to climb his leg, those same claws digging in and he doesn't need to feel it to know it's probably drawn blood this time. He grits his teeth and kicks, hard, and sends whatever is attacking him flying, with the faint sound of it hitting the wall following. It's still not making noises, and he has no idea if he's stunned it, but he isn't going to take chances anymore.
The knife he'd brought to the island is still with him. While he has the chance, he stumbles to the dresser he keeps it in, grabbing the hilt and pulling the weapon out of its sheath. A part of him doubts he'll even need it, that surely whatever it is has run off by now, but that theory is quickly out the window when whatever it is apparently has decided to launch itself at him.
He lets out a sort of strangled, surprised noise, and for an animal the size he thinks it is, it has incredible power behind what he can only describe as an attempt to tackle him, and, caught off balance, he falls backwards, landing on his ass with the thing still on him. At that point, any attempt on his part to not hurt whatever it was goes out the window, and after a scuffle, he plunges the knife into it while he has it pinned, squirming and clawing at his hand, on the ground. It slides into whatever it is with no resistance at all, resistance that should be there. The movement under his hand becomes less and less, until finally it stops completely, leaving him breathless and more than a little confused.
He hears the noise of footsteps walking up to his door, and his head turns toward it, even as he still keeps the knife firmly planted in what's under him. He doesn't want to take any chances, like a part of him thinks maybe it'll start moving again if he pulls it out. Even as rattled as he is, he can tell almost immediately who the owner of the footsteps are. "Annie?"
An animal? It doesn't make sense to him - there's no smell that'd give him a hint of what it could be, and it doesn't feel warm, but it's definitely still moving, and he definitely swears he can feel little claws scraping against his cheeks. Gripping down on its back, he pulls - hard - to get it off, throwing it off to the side, across his room. No cry of pain to give him a hint of what the hell is attacking him, but he also doesn't hear anything scurrying out of his room through the door or the window, either, so he stands, every part of his body tensed up, as he tries to figure out where it went just by sound.
Whatever it is, it's small, with footsteps too faint for him to hear. He only knows where it is only when he feels something start trying to climb his leg, those same claws digging in and he doesn't need to feel it to know it's probably drawn blood this time. He grits his teeth and kicks, hard, and sends whatever is attacking him flying, with the faint sound of it hitting the wall following. It's still not making noises, and he has no idea if he's stunned it, but he isn't going to take chances anymore.
The knife he'd brought to the island is still with him. While he has the chance, he stumbles to the dresser he keeps it in, grabbing the hilt and pulling the weapon out of its sheath. A part of him doubts he'll even need it, that surely whatever it is has run off by now, but that theory is quickly out the window when whatever it is apparently has decided to launch itself at him.
He lets out a sort of strangled, surprised noise, and for an animal the size he thinks it is, it has incredible power behind what he can only describe as an attempt to tackle him, and, caught off balance, he falls backwards, landing on his ass with the thing still on him. At that point, any attempt on his part to not hurt whatever it was goes out the window, and after a scuffle, he plunges the knife into it while he has it pinned, squirming and clawing at his hand, on the ground. It slides into whatever it is with no resistance at all, resistance that should be there. The movement under his hand becomes less and less, until finally it stops completely, leaving him breathless and more than a little confused.
He hears the noise of footsteps walking up to his door, and his head turns toward it, even as he still keeps the knife firmly planted in what's under him. He doesn't want to take any chances, like a part of him thinks maybe it'll start moving again if he pulls it out. Even as rattled as he is, he can tell almost immediately who the owner of the footsteps are. "Annie?"