As soon as the shrieking and pulling starts, Terezi lets go. She doesn't have the reserve of strength to hold on for too long. She has to be careful. She can't strain herself and rush the blood out of her wound. She has to.. She has to...

Her thoughts spin in a circle, gaining no traction. She has to survive, she has to, she has to, she has to. Her hand goes instead to her wound, clamping her hand over it, and hoping against hope that the screaming means she won't find the knife at her throat instead to finish the job. Words are beyond her amid the pain; but even prone on the ground, Terezi's lip still curls, flashing sharp white teeth at her would-be-murderer.