Dragoncrest Cliffs around here, it's just another saturday night.

Atshen easily crumpled under Artaax's weight. Realising his hold as he fell, Atshen's defeat was accompanied by the painful impact of the Hompleia's teeth tearing into the side of his neck. Despite his better judgment, as the smell of his own blood quickly overcame the scent of Artaax's, he trashed weakly in an attempt to free himself. 

Had he been healthy, this may have worked. After all, he had been successful on multiple occasions with this tatic. But, given his condition, his flailing only worsened the blow. Gritting his teeth, as he attempted to free himself, Atshen tried to work through the pain that he was inflicting on himself.