The Bracken Woods don't look at me

He wasn't sure why Delight wanted him to shut up, when there were so many things to say, but he did; he'd have done anything the other asked of him just then. But he winced slightly when Delight nipped his nose. It wasn't necessarily painful, he thought, but disconcerting— then he nipped him again, begging him to stay awake, and Alarian realized maybe he couldn't do that—
Each nip made him wince, but he was too tired to try to avoid them. In his addled state, he quickly came to the conclusion that Delight wanted to tell him something (the way he'd said his name replayed distantly in his mind)— it didn't quite explain why Lily was in on it, why they both sounded so distressed, but he was sure of it. Deliiiiight, He half-whined, mumbling and plaintive— and, frankly, barely coherent. Just— tell me later.
And then Zamael was there, talking— he registered the words distantly, realized a moment too late that his instructions meant he'd have to move (having pressed some wounded areas firmly against Delight). And he really, really didn't want to— no, he'd die right here, thanks. Sure, he was probably delirious from blood loss and not really realizing all that dying entailed (such as never getting this close to Delight again), but damnit what if he never got this close to Delight again?

So, however they decided to approach that whole thing, he protested and generally made it difficult (as much as he could— luckily, not very much at all) for about two full minutes before giving up entirely. But, he did scrunch his nose when Zamael spit plant-paste on his face; he liked plants, but not uh... not that much.