Summoner's eyelids flutter as the Highblood's hand slides down his horn and soon he can actually feel it near his scalp. The sensation makes him shudder and he growls deep when he feels a claw sink into his face. He's getting mixed feelings from it all. On one side he wants to keep fighting, and, kicking and snarling and scratching, but on the other side he can't help but like the tension, like the feeling moving through him from that grip.

The Summoner's eyes dart around a little, darkness starting to move in over him as the Highblood gets closer, he can see the water fall of hair surround him and again he's conflicted.

"A real troll knows how to deal with any situation, chucklefuck-" And then he shivers, feeling the roll of slimy tongue lap over his cheek. Again he shudders, his nose scrunching and lips curled in a sneer at the disgusting sensation. But the feeling of his tongue seems to make his stomach churn as well, hands moving up to grip into that hair and tug it hard, aiming to pull some out.

Summoner kicks again, soon feeling something wet and he glances down, the eye on the wet side of his face closed. His foot is sinking into that wound made by his lance and he's quick to shove his foot in harder, opening the wound further and twisting his leg a little.