It all happens in the blink of an eye. Meyer is lunging forward, grabbing him, and then there is a white-hot pain in his neck. Ned reacts instinctively, trying to wrench his arm free, but the other man's grip is strong. He doesn't want to thrash too much, doesn't want those sharp sharp teeth to rip into him any more than they already have. He can't stop thinking how icy Meyer's mouth is, how being bitten shouldn't be so cold. In a way it lessens the pain, numbs the point of contact.

"G-get off me!" he pants, already starting to feel dizzy from the blood loss. He finally manages to get his arm free, elbows Meyer squarely in the solar plexus, and breaks free. Ned scrambles away from him at once, pressing a hand to the wound on his neck. The blood is flowing freely, but not worryingly fast.

Ned holds up his hands, a gesture that is half-soothing, half supplication.

"You don't want to do this," he urges, hoping that merely saying it will make it true. A drop of blood drips from the heel of Ned's hand. The second it hits the ground, dark red flowers burst up from the grass. They do not grow slowly, as the others have been doing, but they surge up at a rate that doesn't seem possible. Ned looks down in confusion for a second, but he doesn't have time to wonder what's going on there.