[When the offending vine is severed, allowing the local to skitter away (which Connor can hardly blame him for; there’s nothing much else to be done here but attempt to get away when the situation allows it), it means he has one less variable to account for. Data realigns accordingly, working furiously to adjust to the situation. Himself and Arenvald, the priority now a matter of extracting themselves from the situation much like the citizen they saved.
They’re ill-equipped, he realizes, when the vine reaches towards Arenvald, wrapping around his arm. But Connor doesn’t come completely unprepared, and finds time to scuffle to his feet, vine wound tight around his ankle.
He still has enough leeway to unsheath the knife at his hip (given to him by Cayde; perhaps Arenvald might recall seeing it before now), and he has just enough time to plant it right into the vine assailing his friend. Not much more time than that, though, the one around his leg tugging again, and he has to reach out with a free hand to steady himself against Arenvald himself.
The knife stays embedded in the vine, which flails for a few seconds, uncoiling.]
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They’re ill-equipped, he realizes, when the vine reaches towards Arenvald, wrapping around his arm. But Connor doesn’t come completely unprepared, and finds time to scuffle to his feet, vine wound tight around his ankle.
He still has enough leeway to unsheath the knife at his hip (given to him by Cayde; perhaps Arenvald might recall seeing it before now), and he has just enough time to plant it right into the vine assailing his friend. Not much more time than that, though, the one around his leg tugging again, and he has to reach out with a free hand to steady himself against Arenvald himself.
The knife stays embedded in the vine, which flails for a few seconds, uncoiling.]
The one around my leg—!
[you know in case he didn’t already notice]