[Curious, how the wall and floor seemed so...inviting. As the two dancers exchanged blows--the display of emotion was flattering, something most actors failed to capture because they simply did not know--Sander's body slid further down, slumping as death's cool touch passed through him (the blood loss made him grow weary, oddly numb). A dull green glow from the monitor shed over his slumping form, bathing him like a mother's embrace.
Cohen tenses, his palm passing over the seeping wound, sticky from blood and sweat. He clenches his fists.]
You're body is the apex of physical fitness. Go Blue Bird! Show him what you've got!!