[Whether further damage from rocks or his Essence's bolt holes at work, there's a small opening at the bottom of the wall that, on seeing that reach for him, Gobo is able to scramble toward, losing a few hairs off the end of his poofball in the swipe, and the falling rocks. It's a tight fit in the emergency but he's able to go in a few feet, hopefully far enough to be safe; he thunks his back against the wall and, breathing heavily, listens to the ruckus outside to try and gauge what's happening, as well as take stock of his injuries.
Now that the adrenaline was starting to die down, he realized he hurt. That rock had indeed hit him on its way to the ceiling, and his whole shoulder was likely going to sport a pretty bad bruise underneath his clothing and fur for a while. The landing did him no favors, his guitar was badly banged up and would need repairs, and he had general scratches and scrapes. Better that than having been skewered by those claws...
At least, in this precise moment, he was safe. He didn't know what he was going to do now, but looks like that'd be something he'd have to figure out on his own.]
no subject
Now that the adrenaline was starting to die down, he realized he hurt. That rock had indeed hit him on its way to the ceiling, and his whole shoulder was likely going to sport a pretty bad bruise underneath his clothing and fur for a while. The landing did him no favors, his guitar was badly banged up and would need repairs, and he had general scratches and scrapes. Better that than having been skewered by those claws...
At least, in this precise moment, he was safe. He didn't know what he was going to do now, but looks like that'd be something he'd have to figure out on his own.]