[ Miles, too, is too used to combat to continue yelling. He instantly goes limp at Bel's direction, and the dagger sinks in easily. The vine around his neck goes slack ... But the one around his arm pulls him further up into the overgrown room. He just barely manages to catch a rung with his feet and hold on; his arm feels as though it's about to get torn from his body.]
no subject
Shit! This thing's moving!