[He had, actually, been preparing. Expecting the gun instead, he'd weighed the options, gravity or wind or just transforming to run.

Completely unprepared for real pain, the impact knocks the wind out of him, sending brilliant starbursts behind his eyes. The hands that reach up to circle the metal wrist have utterly nothing to do with conscious thought, all in reflex and instinct and some part of him scrambles to figure out what happened.]