The vampire was fast on his feet, his movements full of fluid grace, like a tiger gathering power in its legs before springing into a powerful leap. Instinctively, despite his brain telling him otherwise, Ryah gripped the front of Drake's shirt hard. Falling was the last thing he wanted to do. It was, perhaps, his most debilitating fear, though hell if he would admit that to anyone, least of a vampire he hardly knew. He could just imagine slipping, falling and crashing into the concrete below, shattering all the bones in his body. The brunet shut his eyes, blaming it on the dizzying speed at which the vampire moved.<br/><br/>Once on the roof, Ryah broke away, not quite able to hold back the swift intake of breath at the way his injuries pulsed and throbbed. The bleeding wasn't stopping, the wounds too great to clot on their own. At this rate, he'd bleed or before he could do a damned thing. Reaching for his kit, Ryah shook his head. "I just need to--to stitch myself up--" he gritted out between clenched teeth as the pain flared in his chest, sending white-hot sparks of pain lancing through him. Even lifting his arms above his head hurt, so the brunet shrugged his jacket off and cut his shirt away instead, peeling it off, revealing the three jagged, gaping wounds from shoulder to sternum.<br/><br/>Ryah pulled out the sharp needle but the moment he tried to thread it, he fumbled and dropped it, his movements slow and sluggish, swearing under his breath. It was bad enough that it was so dark outside, but the blood loss certainly didn't help. He cast about for the needle but his vision was hampered by the dark cover of the night. Something pricked him at the edge of his mind. He'd heard a rumour once, about a rare trait a small percentage of vampires possessed. "Wait...vampire nails... Do they paralyze their victims?"