[ Peter glances down at the offered hand before reluctantly taking it, hauling himself up to his feet. His hand briefly presses against his aching side – he's really going to need to ice these bruises, later – but after that, he brushes himself off.
(Just dirt, he tells himself. Just dirt and dead leaves that he's shaking off. Nothing more.)
The niceties can come later, apparently, because Peter is looking back at the big, angry creature, who's snarling and snapping in its bonds. ]
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(Just dirt, he tells himself. Just dirt and dead leaves that he's shaking off. Nothing more.)
The niceties can come later, apparently, because Peter is looking back at the big, angry creature, who's snarling and snapping in its bonds. ]
How long does that crap last?