Knock the wind from him it does, his head spinning as he gasps for air and winces at the renewed pain from his earlier wounds. He doesn’t have time to pull himself up before Gustavain does, a strangled sort of noise escaping his throat as his mind is temporarily overwhelmed. This is not Gustavain-like behavior. He’s having a hard time finding the spirit to care.

His body stills considerably when the bite find him, a slight tremble through him as his arms fight to keep him lifted. Under his teeth, Gustavain will have no trouble feeling how quickly Phillip’s heart is beating, pulse like a drum through a mix of pain, some fear, and so, so much desires. “Gods,” he managed to gasp out, not sure he’s coherent enough to say more but the sentiment coming through loud and clear.