"You wouldn't." Tamlin's voice was steady, sure, and confident, but he was anything but. The woman smirked, her knife pressing harder against Tamlin's stomach. "You'll be hunted down and killed if you do this." His voice was low, as he grasped the woman's wrist, trying to keep her from breaking through the fabric of his shirt, and through his skin. 

A small laugh escaped the woman. "I'm willing to take that risk, if it means that you're dead." With that, she pushed the knife into his body, ripping open his flesh. Tamlin cried out in pain, falling to the ground as the woman fled, leaving him for dead. 

Trying to keep from passing out, Tamlin forced his energy towards the wound, healing as much of it as he could, which was barely enough to fix where she'd cut into his liver. There was blood flowing freely from the wound as he stood, staggering out of the alley and towards the street. He didn't make it that far though, collapsing at he entrance of the alley. 

Seeing a man walking under a nearby street light, Tamlin cried out, "help, please!" His voice was weak, and he was afraid the man wouldn't be able to hear him. He needed help, someone to make sure he stayed alive long enough to let his Fae body heal him naturally. An injury such as his would only take a few days, at most a week, to heal, so long as he stayed alive for that to happen. 

Tamlin watched the man, hoping that the hood thrown over his head would be enough to keep the man from noticing his pointed ears. He just prayed the man wouldn't take him to a human hospital, knowing that there would be too many questions if that was done. He couldn't hide his Fae blood, his Fae healing, from doctors. He had a hope of being able to do so with one man, but in a hospital, he was doomed.