“Angelica,” she ordered. She kicked him in the stomach again. “Paw!”
What’re you doing now?
Angelica stepped forward and placed one paw the breadth of a truck tire down on the man’s pelvis.
Oh. So that’s where the paw goes.
He howled in agony, his words rapid, desperate and breathless, “Heavy oh god please stop please let me go make it move itscrushingme!”
It’s basically like having a car parked partially on top of him, isn’t it.
She looked at him with distaste. It bothered her that the only time she could be absolutely sure what someone meant, what someone wanted, was in circumstances like this.
Yeeah, I kinda doubt “Heavy oh god please stop please let me go make it move itscrushingme!” means anything other than “Heavy oh god please stop please let me go make it move itscrushingme!”.
“Angelica,” she ordered, ducking beneath Angelica’s outstretched limb, kicking him in the kneecap, “Take it.”
Is it sausage time for the doggo?
Angelica bent and gripped the man’s legs in her teeth, twisting his body further. His body was pressed to the ground by her paw, his arm and legs pulled up and away from it.
Okay so if I’ve got it straight, Ink is holding him by his arms, and Angelica is holding him up by his legs but pushing him down by his torso. So he’s practically in a U shape now, or something close to it, and if the doggos start pulling, they’re probably going to rip the dude’s limbs off.