The flare of pain was immediate. The creature's breath was hot against his skin. He cursed. Somewhere deep in his mind, he thought absently that this was really familiar, just one more day out of many, but—

Reacting purely on the instinct that came out of that sense of Oh God, I think I'm gonna die, Matthew shoved onto his back, reaching back with his uninjured arm to grab onto what, he had no goddamn clue. Something. If he'd had time to consider, he ran the risk of getting his hand bitten off, but he wasn't really thinking straight. Didn't know why it hadn't gone for his throat, either, when it could've.

Whatever it was, it must've been a—a wild feline of some sort or something. Right? Those things wandered into homes and stuff all the time.