[Any and all remaining rational thought seeps away and Chekov's ability to comprehend what's going on is deteriorating. Korra is still there, he knows that. The blood's still there.]
Я не понимаю. [The words are slurred and, even to a native Russian speaker, too choked by blood and pain to be easily comprehended. Pavel is still trying to address Korra. He doesn't understand what's going on.] Что...?
[His futile attempts at communication draw to an abrupt halt when someone--Korra--begins moving him. Agony floods his senses and, even though his eyes are open, all he can see are shifting colors and an ominous blackness that pulses with every movement.
It's cold.
Everything goes dark and, for a moment, all Chekov can feel is a thousand fiery stings that sear his back and insides. There's nothing he can do. He can't even scream.
no subject
Я не понимаю. [The words are slurred and, even to a native Russian speaker, too choked by blood and pain to be easily comprehended. Pavel is still trying to address Korra. He doesn't understand what's going on.] Что...?
[His futile attempts at communication draw to an abrupt halt when someone--Korra--begins moving him. Agony floods his senses and, even though his eyes are open, all he can see are shifting colors and an ominous blackness that pulses with every movement.
It's cold.
Everything goes dark and, for a moment, all Chekov can feel is a thousand fiery stings that sear his back and insides. There's nothing he can do. He can't even scream.
Awareness dims entirely as pain fades to black.]