You let out a dry cough as you're slammed against the bricks of the hive and threatened. You're terrified. Your vision is blurring over with panic, and you try to shrug it off, try to be like one of those shucking psycho purple-bloods that quite literally probably eat lowbloods for breakfast. For now, you manage to keep up your walls. They're thinning, but they're up, and you spit in the yellow-blood's face, unable to retort verbally to his bluff.