The changeling struggled in the iron grip as he was lifted bodily off of the ground. An iron clad hand clamped over its muzzle, unable to call out its discovery of the open side door, or its distress and alarm as something it couldn't even sense was currently lifting it up off the ground. An explosion of pain blossomed in its neck before it slowly went slack, mind increasingly foggy and senses dulled. The last thing it remembered before darkness took him was a voice in his ear.