█▐ ❆ ࿐ᐤ HIS CROWN ALMOST pivots to the sound of footsteps, when a sudden impact plummets him down.

               Oof        ✩!

    The hard concrete displays no MERCY, bruising his right thigh that he utilized to cushion his inevitable fall. The stunt strikes a nerve, a prickling familiarity of distaste ; Gray peers up at his assailant with seething ire.

          ❝ Bastard. ❞

    &&. He spits, his own stare unfaltering, machismo RAGING. Yet, he remains still. A robust sigh merely heaved, no longer possessing the vigor he once harbored when retaliating against the other other ; a clear indication that his posture slackened. Gray wants to prioritize himself above such childish antics, knowing he had no way of positively contributing to the situation…

    Like hell he had the grace to mask a fall.