Jonas rushed to Arthur's side. Arthur remained on his knees, clutching the bloody stump where his arm had been only moments before. His face had gone pale, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought against the waves of pain threatening to pull him into unconsciousness.
"Arthur, are you okay?" Jonas's voice came out shaky and panicked.
Arthur looked up, saliva dripping from his gritted teeth. His eyes were glossy with shock and pain as he met Jonas's gaze.
"No, I'm not okay. My fucking arm is—" A fresh spurt of blood from the wound cut his words short, forcing a strangled cry from his throat. He bit down hard, nearly drawing blood from his own lip as he struggled to maintain composure.
