[Before he can think, Cesare lunges forward. The horns of his mask clash against Louis' mane with a loud crack and he snarls. Louis may be calm, but Cesare is buzzing.]
No chance. [He reaches down to his hip, where his blade should be waiting for him, before remembering it is long gone. A flood of furious panic and rage rushes through him, and he reaches up with both hands instead, shoving his palms into Louis' chest to push him away.]
no subject
No chance. [He reaches down to his hip, where his blade should be waiting for him, before remembering it is long gone. A flood of furious panic and rage rushes through him, and he reaches up with both hands instead, shoving his palms into Louis' chest to push him away.]