Kimbley was fighting the whole time - struggling to wrench himself out from under Greed, or at least get his hands somewhere inaccessible - but when it came down to it, when Greed actually got his wrist flat and his fingers away from his palm and dragged his claws across the thirteen-year-old tattoo there, his entire body came to an agonizing halt.
It wasn't the pain that bothered him, because there were much more painful things in the world than having your hand cut up. And he'd experienced plenty of them. No, it had nothing to do with the cuts and the blood and the future thoughts of infections or amputations. It was that his hand - one of his two greatest weapons, the creations he'd spent nearly his entire life perfecting - was completely and absolutely ruined. Half of the best, most dangerous weapon in all Amestris and it was destroyed.
A strangled almost-scream of rage struggled to free itself from his throat, but even in the throes of agonized rage, Kimbley still had his pride.
"I'll kill you!" he snarled, his voice cracking and his eyes wild with wrath. In one movement, he bucked, whipping his bloody right arm up and letting his hand smash into the side of Greed's face. His nails scrabbled for half a second before finding purchase and digging into the skin on the edge of Greed's cheekbone and tearing - or at least, trying to. Kimbley was completely lost to his hatred; he only wanted to see Greed pay for this.
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It wasn't the pain that bothered him, because there were much more painful things in the world than having your hand cut up. And he'd experienced plenty of them. No, it had nothing to do with the cuts and the blood and the future thoughts of infections or amputations. It was that his hand - one of his two greatest weapons, the creations he'd spent nearly his entire life perfecting - was completely and absolutely ruined. Half of the best, most dangerous weapon in all Amestris and it was destroyed.
A strangled almost-scream of rage struggled to free itself from his throat, but even in the throes of agonized rage, Kimbley still had his pride.
"I'll kill you!" he snarled, his voice cracking and his eyes wild with wrath. In one movement, he bucked, whipping his bloody right arm up and letting his hand smash into the side of Greed's face. His nails scrabbled for half a second before finding purchase and digging into the skin on the edge of Greed's cheekbone and tearing - or at least, trying to. Kimbley was completely lost to his hatred; he only wanted to see Greed pay for this.