Strained breaths came awkwardly spaced, the only noise around him as the communication system fizzled into silence, taking away already-faded screams and the dangerously businesslike tone of the person behind them. He felt the icy metal of Kururu's desk under his clenched knuckles just as he had felt a giant claw smashing into his entire body, and though they were drastically different sensations, it was the same tug at the center of his chest, the same knowledge of separation. He smiled bitterly, revealing precise white teeth, dull human things that could just as easily have been fangs for the ferocity that drove them to visibility. He wondered bluntly if it would hurt for Kururu, if it had hurt for Pirarah, having their gums stretched to fit actual fangs?
He flinched, and drew away from the desk, realizing how close he had come to panicking here and laughing at his own incompetence. Naturally, the most trying thing required the most... stability from him, and he would give it. Still, that particular question of pain stayed with him, and a few others rose to worsen the possibilities, giving a simple, chilled resolve; as palatable to him as freshly squeezed juice.
If there was pain involved, he would just have to make Dorara understand why he shouldn't inflict this on others through personal experience.