There are times in Narvin's life where he occasionally begins to seriously consider the direction it is going, and he would say that this is most definitely be one of them as one of the birds swoops in with talons out and swiftly cuts three lines in his cheek and not his eyes after he manages to move his head just in time. A burst of nonsensical (to anyone who isn't Gallifreyan, so a majority of people, then) expletives comes out when another bird dives for his face, this time catching his forehead as a last resort when the armful of cloth that is the sleeve of his robes manages to protect his eyes once more.
The hollow sound of a stazer blast catches that one in the back, but the flurry of birds prevents him from seeing if it killed the thing at all.
A small explosion happens nearby and the timbre of it speeds through Narvin's mind, picking up the relevant details on the way. Projectile weapon, probably a revolver, certainly not a handgun, from Earth. The noise seems to surprise the birds and they disperse a little, just enough for Narvin to catch a glimpse of the person firing it before he has to duck his head when they redouble they attack, agitated, probably trying to get the kill in before things got too difficult for them.
"Yes, thank you!" Narvin's voice pitches furiously, trying to shake off as much of the sudden increase in clawing and the pecking as he can.
Well, he thinks. He knew he was going to die (even if he could regenerate, he wasn't sure there'd be enough of him left to do that), but going by way of birds was something he hadn't seen coming.
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The hollow sound of a stazer blast catches that one in the back, but the flurry of birds prevents him from seeing if it killed the thing at all.
A small explosion happens nearby and the timbre of it speeds through Narvin's mind, picking up the relevant details on the way. Projectile weapon, probably a revolver, certainly not a handgun, from Earth. The noise seems to surprise the birds and they disperse a little, just enough for Narvin to catch a glimpse of the person firing it before he has to duck his head when they redouble they attack, agitated, probably trying to get the kill in before things got too difficult for them.
"Yes, thank you!" Narvin's voice pitches furiously, trying to shake off as much of the sudden increase in clawing and the pecking as he can.
Well, he thinks. He knew he was going to die (even if he could regenerate, he wasn't sure there'd be enough of him left to do that), but going by way of birds was something he hadn't seen coming.