[Almost an entire varga with no rest, no stopping, no time. Keith goes down like a sack of bricks with the lunge, crying out from the way his muscles spasm and the bruises hurt down to his bones. And in seconds, there's something strong and firm squeezing at his throat and he coughs trying to get them off, pull them loose, but he's so tired.
His voice is barely audible, broken up with everything.] Sh-shiro.... Don-n't do this.
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His voice is barely audible, broken up with everything.] Sh-shiro.... Don-n't do this.