[ She's right he doesn't need an apology, isn't concerned about wasting time with one. If they'll do this, he wants it over with before things grow worse. (It's best he's wholly unaware of the potential side effects that could befall Ciri.)
He manages to sit up. Probably doesn't need to, but it makes him feel less like he's infirm. He isn't a corpse yet. Then he grits his teeth and does his best to help, peeling back the flesh so she can better cut the bits out.
It's. Fuck. Unpleasant. He hisses. Unbeknownst to him, his teeth lengthen, sharpen, and his eyes flood black. Blood flows freely from the fresh slices. He soaks it up with the dried husks—the best they have. ]
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He manages to sit up. Probably doesn't need to, but it makes him feel less like he's infirm. He isn't a corpse yet. Then he grits his teeth and does his best to help, peeling back the flesh so she can better cut the bits out.
It's. Fuck. Unpleasant. He hisses. Unbeknownst to him, his teeth lengthen, sharpen, and his eyes flood black. Blood flows freely from the fresh slices. He soaks it up with the dried husks—the best they have. ]