[ It's not the first time, that he's crawled out of a grave. Hilariously, it's not even the second. More like the third, by his count. The press of the earth around him is more of a nuisance, as he kicks his feet and leverages his fingers into the loamy soil, clawing his way from the shallow hole he'd woken in. The sharp inhale that had taken him was not something, had he control over his senses upon waking, that he'd have allowed. Survival tactics and techniques, after all, are his forte; sometimes they include surviving deadly scenarios, such as being buried alive.

One has to know how to survive them, if he's to ensure someone else doesn't.

He hauls himself, spitting and coughing, from the shallow grave. Feet lashing, arms slightly too long and pale as the moon, as a corpse. He's an elongated creature, dirt smeared at the corners of his mouth and lungs working to reject globs of damp soil from their passages. Barely, he catches the sound of a voice over the sound of his own choking. Barely, he peers through dirt-filmed eye and notes the yellow glow. Just within grabbing distance.

For a moment, he works on breathing in. Breathing deep.

Angrily, his mouth pulls back, baring the sharp points of his serpentine teeth -- and he lunges, on toes and scrabbling fingers, aiming to attack the poor sap who'd come over to him and lock his limbs down. A grappling, pinning hold between rough hands and tight thighs -- python-like, in restriction. ]

Didn't go, according to plan, did it?

[ Vaati hisses, and swipes a clean patch of coat over his uncovered eye. ]

I'd say "next time, be sure I'm dead before you bury me", but we both know -- there is no next time for you.

[ Jack, u always wanted to die between someone's thighs, right?? ]