Bearclaw Valley bear with me

Ico's voice is inaudible in between the carnage, the sound of his own screams and heartbeat, the stuttering sound of ripping skin. A pang in his teeth as they drag through Santiago's cheek—a scythe through wheat— more blood. More fur. His zygomatic arch on the inside of his cheek.
The moment of impact is fleeting.
Astara hangs on to the very end like a fighter pilot sparring with the last enemy, smoke and fire sputtering out of her fuselage. He blinks away the blood from his eyes, rolling slow and dark over his brow like molasses.
He's tensing, drawing back for another punch, when he hears Evien. He turns wild eyes to him, his pupils so dilated that they appear black and shiny. Heavy breathing. From his bloody ear, there's only a sick pressure and a distant high-pitched scream. You've ruined me, he thinks, but he doesn't attack, for Kastner's sake.